


Night and Day

by Oldine



Category: Blood Ties (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 23,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22752157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oldine/pseuds/Oldine
Summary: Days after the ending of season 2, Vicki is found unconscious with no idea what happened.  She tries to retrace her own steps limited by her injuries.  Circumstances leads her to pursue a relationship with Henry. Meanwhile, Mike investigates a homicide where the killer appears to have targeted Vicki. A new man with uncertain motives enters Vicki's life. It turned out to be a novella that tied up loose ends from the series.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Names and locations were chosen for story purposes. Any similarities to actual people or events is coincidental.

**Mississauga Hospital; Toronto, Canada**

**Tuesday, December 11, 2007**

Snow fell blanketing the ground in a thin layer of white. It brightened the night reflecting artificial light in the crowded parking lot. Individuals and small groups hurried to and from the entrance motivated by below freezing temperatures. Sirens from different ambulances roared through the quiet.

Henry Fitzroy strode toward the front entrance barely aware of the cold. It hadn’t affected him in centuries. One of the many advantages of his immortality.

Navigating the crowd to the elevator annoyed him. He could hear Vicki’s voice scolding him. Somehow in the relatively short time he knew her, she became his conscience. Part of her charm and ongoing aggravation. And the only reason he would tolerate the inconvenience.

Unfamiliar with the hospital layout, Henry didn’t immediately see her room number. He smiled, approaching a nurse named Olivia. She smiled, lighting up her eyes. Her heartbeat increased. The obvious attraction meant someone appreciated him at least.

“Victoria Nelson’s room.”

Olivia looked apologetic. “I need to look her up.”

“She’s intense and asks questions like a cop.”

The nurse nodded. “While insisting on being discharged.”

“Yes.” Henry wondered when he started viewing stubborn as an endearing quality.

She turned and led down the hall. “The doctor wants her to stay another night.”

Not unless he tied her to the bed. When the obvious innuendo didn’t immediately come to mind, Henry knew he needed less stress. With his editor satisfied and a few paintings sold, he could focus on it. Except he hesitated to complete arrangements with Augustus. Henry justified it by telling himself the town was no longer safe for a new master. Not with Astaroth walking around in a priest’s body. But nowhere was truly safe.

Olivia stopped near Vicki’s room. “My shift ends in a couple hours.”

“Another night.” Henry smiled.

Disappointed, the nurse walked away. He couldn’t even appreciate the view.

Annoyed with himself, he walked through the door. Vicki sat on the edge of the bed wearing the clothes she was brought in wearing. The smell of blood grabbed his attention. She had a bandaged forehead, abrasions and a wrist brace. What stood out was the vulnerability. Something scared her.

She stood with a grimace and turned away from the waiting wheelchair. He knew better than to argue with her. Instead he walked over and guided her into it. Her lack of argument worried him.

“Where’s your coat?”

“The police took it.”

Why? Henry wanted to ask. If she knew, she would have told him. Instead he slipped his own coat off and carefully set it over her.

“I need to go to my office,” Vicki said quietly as he maneuvered the wheelchair out of the room.

He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Home and bed.”

“The office, please.”

What happened? When she called, she told him she had a problem on an investigation and was taken to the hospital. Until she texted a room number, he thought she was in the ER. It took an Internet search to find out she was found unconscious the previous day in Marie Curtis Park. A former police officer on bad terms with the department was news. Combined with the complete lack of details and a lot of people were asking questions online.

Adding to it, Vicki didn’t complain when he insisted she wait inside while he get the car. With the snow, it would have been easier to carry her than push the chair.

The silence was starting to worry him as he helped her into the car. Henry waited until he was in the driver’s seat and the heat was on before asking the big question. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Vicki sounded weak and scared.

The demon came to mind again. “Why were you in the park?” Henry couldn’t think of any reason she would go there. It was a less then ideal meeting place with the wind coming off Lake Ontario.

She focused on her hands. “I don’t know.”

It explain why she wanted to go to her office. She would have something about her investigation there. With Coreen unable to work as she recovered from possession, it required more than a phone call to get details. But Vicki's body language and quiet made Henry wonder. Both were out of character.

Henry drove. “What do you remember?”

A few minutes passed. “An angel. Standing on Etobicoke Creek.” Vicki rubbed the tattooed demon marks on her wrists, dislodging her brace. She grimaced without realizing she was hurting herself.

At the next light, Henry reached over and gently grabbed her hand. “Describe the angel.”

Vicki stared out the passenger window as the light turned and he started driving again. “Beautiful. He glowed white with a gold aura.” She sounded awed and disturbed.

What worried Henry was he had no idea what the creature was. He heard angel stories over the years. Even believed a few. Most were the result of intoxication or mental issues. Some resulted from near-death experiences. The later might explain her reaction. Or she misinterpreted a vivid hallucination as an NDE.

“Did he speak?”

“No.” Vicki’s tone said she wished he had.

**Vicki’s Office**

Vicki Nelson noticed the broken door down the hall. Even with the added visual problems. From the damage, she suspected a mundane explanation. Henry would have knocked the door in or ripped it off it’s hinges. He opened it with one hand while keeping the other around her waist.

She hated weakness. Her eyes destroyed her career with the police department. Whatever happened in the park cost her a day in the hospital and the ability to get herself home. Even if she didn’t want to admit it, she knew she was in trouble. The memory problems were worse than the sprained wrist and bruises down her right side.

The damage said someone was looking for something and angry they didn’t find it. Broken furniture, strewn papers. They ever punched holes in the walls.

“I need to call 999.” Vicki wished she could call Mike. She spoke to him two hours before calling Henry. As a condition of avoiding suspension, and internal review, she was off-limits. “You need to go.” Not that she wanted him to. She had no illusions she could defend herself.

“I will remain nearby.”

She nodded, removing her cell phone from her pocket. The tone of the conversation as she identified herself said her standings with the police department was worse than she already thought. There had to be a flag on her name, number or address. “It’s probably connected to being attacked at Curtis Park yesterday.”

The operator said officers would be there as soon as possible and not to touch anything until then. Were you trying to be offensive, Vicki wondered. The call ended leaving her wondering how long it would take.

Unable to stand indefinitely, she sat on the hallway floor outside the door. With her injuries it took effort. Afterward she wondered if she would be able to stand.

Pride was the least of her worries. She had no idea what happened to her or why. She vaguely remembered meeting someone at Lakeview Library a couple hours before she was found at the park. Except she had nothing scheduled. After what happened with Coreen, and Henry and Mike after, a few days off seemed like a good idea. It suggested someone contacted her with something urgent. Or she was following a lead on Astaroth.

Neither possibility explained being in a frozen over park between the Lake and Creek. Or who found her. The officer that interviewed her, after she regained consciousness in the emergency room, found the anonymous 999 call suspicious. He suspected she was involved in something but gave her no indication of what.

An hour into her wait, everything hurt. Vicki was wondering if she should have stayed in the hospital when Henry approached. He offered a hand up. Reluctantly she accepted.

“What?”

He kept his voice low. “Two officers on their way up. They think you staged the break-in.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Etobicoke Valley Park**

Detective Mike Celluci parked on Horner Avenue behind the patrol cars and followed the bike trail toward the Creek. He received the case despite his probationary status and his partner’s anger. Other detectives were busy. Although his situation wasn’t strictly policy, Crowley was pissed. She wanted him gone. It didn’t help he recently uncovered she contaminated evidence in a case years earlier and then helped stage the evidence eventually leading to three murders.

He followed the police lights and the sound of movement. Securing an outdoor scene nevertheless next to water took effort. It was hard to determine how much of the area needed to be sectioned off. The frozen ground prevented or concealed possible evidence. Complicated by the snow. Between the water and the weather, retrieving the body couldn’t wait. But the cold suggested the immediate area was where she fell or was dumped.

“What do we know?” Mike ducked under the crime scene tape.

A uniformed officer wearing winter gloves walked over. “She wasn’t dressed for the weather. No coat. Thin clothes. We’ve recovered one slipper.”

It sounded like she escaped from something. “Are we canvasing both sides of the river?”

The officer nodded. Then motioned toward Horner as he spoke. “Members of Alderwood church saw a woman matching her description two hours ago and called 999. It’s how we found her.”

Mike nodded. “Thank you.”

Caroline Wilson waved to get his attention from the other side of the crime scene tape. Mike walked over to her. They met in the Academy what felt like another lifetime ago. Cari opted for a different career path that should have had her warm and comfortable at a station coordinating shifts. She held up the tape as he approached.

“What’s wrong?”

She kept her voice low. “Did you know Vicki was in the hospital?”

“Yeah,” he replied quietly. “I have to stay away from the case.”

“She called 999 to report a break-in at her office half-an-hour ago. The responding officers were advised she probably staged it. I called an officer at the hospital and he said that she left in a wheelchair. Based on the time frame, she couldn’t have gotten there in time to damage it before calling the police.”

Mike wondered if Crowley was involved.

“I pulled call records and found earlier calls reporting the noise and the broken door.”

“Was it flagged for internal review?”

Cari nodded. “An hour before the anonymous call yesterday, someone claimed Vicki was impersonating a detective. When she got to the hospital, her Medicare file was inaccessible. The department had to send a copy of her medical records before she was admitted.”

Once he would have considered the entire scenario impossible. Now he wondered who benefited from it. “Is her private investigator’s license affected?”

“I don’t know.”

**Henry’s Apartment**

There was a long list of reasons having a house guest for more than a few hours was a bad idea. Henry Fitzroy opened the door and helped Vicki inside. Sitting on the floor outside her office hadn’t help her injuries. She needed pain medication she wasn’t willing to take. He shut the door with his foot.

She stumbled. He picked her up against her protests and carried her to the bedroom. After what happened with Coreen, he replaced the bed and bedding, telling himself he needed it until he moved. Setting Vicki on it to recuperate wasn’t what he had in mind.

“I can’t stay here.”

“Until morning.” Henry had no idea how to deal with the situation at that point. While he had no doubt he could trust her, the idea of having someone in his home while he was vulnerable made him uneasy.

“Thank you.”

Henry sat on the edge of the bed and the many times he thought about get her there. Under different circumstances. His hunger unfortunately took that moment to remind him he needed to feed. That meant leaving her undefended. But he couldn’t ignore it for long.

“What?”

A simple question with a dangerous answer. Henry wanted more than sex. Nothing he did was good enough. Even when Mike questioned her judgment. As much as they needed to talk about it, it had to wait until she was feeling better.

“I need to go out.” Another complicated subject. Even if he was willing to feed from her, she couldn’t sustain him. That required socializing. She could accept he was a vampire but not what he had to do to survive.

Vicki reached for his hand. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

**House near Alderwood Church**

Mike Celluci parked his unmarked police car behind the Emergency Task Force. After several witness statements, uniforms had a suspect. Two waitresses identified the victim and connected her to him. CCTV confirmed it. The bartender found a credit card slip. It all led to an unassuming house less than a block from where the churchgoers reported seeing the victim.

The ETF entered the front door using a small, hand-held ram to break the lock. Minutes later, “oh God” came over the radio. Cornell hesitated uncharacteristically. Then he used police codes to request crime scene teams.

That painted an ugly picture. Mike waited for permission to enter. Then walked up the sidewalk and across the front lawn. Nothing stood out as he entered. Minimal furniture. More electronics then anything. A guy lived there. Maybe two.

After the ETF exited the basement through a door off the kitchen, Cornell motioned toward it. “You need to see it for yourself.”

Unlike the first floor, Mike had an eerie feeling walking downstairs. The hairs stood up on his arms. After everything he had seen lately, particularly Coreen’s demon possession, the possibilities flashing through his mind were from horror movies. What he saw fit.

Half the basement looked like a altar room. A large, stone slab the size of a grave was covered in chiseled symbols and what looked like dried blood. Melted candles surrounded it. It smelled like blood, wax, fire and incense.

An open doorway on the opposite side of the room drew Mike’s attention. Although disturbing, it wasn’t what caused the EFT leader’s reaction. He walked around the candles. Then hesitated outside the room. From what he could see, it looked like a basic office.

Mike entered the room. It looked normal until he looked at the wall to the right. The floor to ceiling was covered with pictures of Vicki. Some were downloaded from social media or taken from newspaper articles. A few from the department site.

It immediately made him think of what Wilson said and didn’t like the timing. While coincidences happened, he doubted it.

An unsettling thought came to mind and he walked back to the kitchen to make the call. The dead woman in Etobicoke Creek looked vaguely like Vicki when she was younger. Did you let her escape?


	3. Chapter 3

**Dreamscape**

Vicki Nelson walked along a Lake Ontario beach near the park where she was found unconscious. Except it looked centuries earlier. She’d seen pictures of Toronto in the 1800s. There were similarities. Somehow she knew it was after the Lake became accessible from the Atlantic. An old sailing ship appeared off the coast. The Parnassus, except she had no idea how she knew it’s name or that it was somehow connected to Apollo.

“Why am I here?”

A voice whispered on the wind. “You woke me.”

Vicki didn’t understand. That seemed to be a continual part of her life. She suspected she attracted another supernatural being. Without Coreen’s research or Henry’s knowledge, she couldn’t begin to guess what kind. Or why.

“What do you want?”

“A way home.” The wind swirled around her.

Only then did she look down at what she was wearing. The white dress with gold embroidery reminded her of Greek mythology and Elena with the ability to turn men to stone. Not a good memory. She hoped she never had to behead someone again.

“I will not harm you, Victoria.”

Reading her thoughts was the least of it, she realized. In order to create and control her dream, he was manipulating her mind. Not a comforting thought.

The dream suddenly changed. Storm clouds rolled in overhead. A burst of lightning struck the ship. Screams gave her chills as the ship sank beneath the waves. A light surfaced from the choppy sea and glided over the water toward Etobicoke Creek.

“Are you a ghost?” Vicki had dealt with a few of the recently deceased. Paul had limited ability to interact with the living. Whereas Magnus killed people. A couple hundred year old ghost would probably be more dangerous.

“Far from it. I cannot die.”

Resigned, Vicki asked, “What’s needed for you to get home?”

“A conduit of contradictions. You are a good woman marked by evil. Used dark magic solely to protect others. With the potential for great power yet have no interest in it.” The angel she vaguely remembered stood on the waves just beyond the beach. “You cannot exist.”

**Henry’s Apartment**

Henry Fitzroy returned feeling relaxed. A club full of beautiful hedonists helped as much as feeding. He needed to go out and indulge more often. Especially with the pretty brunette offering inspiration for a new character for his next graphic novel. Or a painting. He hadn’t worked with traditional oils in a long time.

A thump distracted him. Focusing on the noise, he realized it came from the bedroom. Vicki’s heart rate was way too elevated while her respiration said she was sleeping.

He hurried toward his bedroom as the thumping increased. She was having a nightmare. When he opened the door, the room felt charged. Something influenced her dream. With no idea what, the best idea was to wake her before it caused cardiac arrest.

“Vicki.” Henry climbed on the side of the bed. It had no affect. He shook her arm. “Vicki.” She seemed to stir for a moment. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not. Her heart rate increased again. Unsure what to do, he grabbed her wrist brace. He doubted she took a full dose of her pain medication.

Startled, she opened her eyes. From her expression, she had no idea where she was.

“You’re safe.”

“I can’t exist.”

Several minutes passed before the disorientation faded and her heart beat returned to normal. Henry propped Vicki up on pillows while waiting for her to fully surface.

“What happened?” She asked weakly, cradling her injured arm.

“I woke you from a nightmare.” He waited a moment. “Do you remember any of it?”

Vicki’s eyes lost focus as she remembered something. “The angel. He wants something.” She shook her head. “Why can’t I remember?”

“I don’t know.” Henry couldn’t recall hearing an angel story that involved potentially fatal nightmares and memory loss. Having lived in five centuries, that said a lot.

Vicki’s phone rang on the nightstand. She reached for it, grimacing as she moved. Seeing the screen, she hesitated before answering. “Hey.”

“Where are you?” Mike sounded concerned.

“I thought you had to stay away from me.”

“The break-in at your office is connected to a new case.” Pause. “The damage to your apartment is worse.”

Vicki switched her phone to speaker. “I’m with Henry.” Reluctantly, she admitted, “I can’t meet you there.” She explained her injuries without mentioning the nightmare.

“I have official questions. Do you need anything?”

“Will you pack a few things?” She looked like she realized something. “And bring dinner.”

Mike Celluci sat in his car checking messages. He needed to meet with the pathologist. She had something on the woman pulled from the Creek. A psychologist was called in to review the stalker collage. Internal Affairs wanted to talk to him about the break-ins. There was no evidence the woman broke anything to free herself from the house, supporting her abductor let her leave.

What did any of it accomplish? Unless the offender somehow anticipated he would get the case, a different result was expected. It might have taken longer for someone to realize the victim resembled Vicki. Possibly when a detective had pictures of the victim and the collage together. The hospitalization and break-ins might not have been connected until after a time line was constructed.

Mike climbed out of the car with an uneasy feeling. It increased as he entered the building and took the elevator. Vicki was found unconscious south of the victim on the same side of the Creek. The targeted hacking might be an extension of the stalking. Except the different types of attacks indicated different motivations. They might not be directly linked. Or they might not be connected at all. The supernatural cases she investigated attracted the wrong kind of attention.

Henry opened the door as Mike reached out to knock. They eyed each other. He still wasn’t sure how to process the existence of vampires. Trusting Vicki’s safety to a monster didn’t make it easier.

“Do the police have anything on why Vicki was in the park?” Henry asked quietly, closing the door behind Mike.

“No.”

“The attack is still happening.” Henry explained the nightmare. “Ending it requires more information.”

Killer angels. Mike didn’t know how to deal with that. “There’s a potential serial killer targeting her.”

The bed creaked and footsteps followed. Vicki opened the bedroom door looking annoyed. “What?” She looked and sounded weak, pained and annoyed.

Some things didn’t change. Mike held up the take-out bags. “I brought Chinese.”

“And clothes?” She looked at her duffel bag.

Ideally, that was a safer topic. “Liselle. The crime scene tech. Made sure nothing was done to your clothes. As much as possible. The searchers focused on papers.”

Vicki paled. Former detective, private investigator, it didn’t matter when it came to having personal space violated. She understood it better than a civilian. Asking about pictures required explaining the stalker shrine. The implications were a lot worse than two B&Es. Mike wished he could spare her the details. But her experience offered unique perspective.

“Crowley didn’t change her mind because someone tossed my apartment.”

“You need to sit down.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Vicki’s Office**

**Wednesday, December 12, 2007**

Vicki Nelson sat in a new chair behind her desk sorting papers. As far as she could tell, nothing was missing. They were obviously looking for something but she had no idea what. She couldn’t help but wonder if the explanation was lost in her memory gaps. Nothing she found explained why she went to Lakeview Library or the park.

She sat back, removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. In a couple hours, she needed to retrace her steps. But thinking about it made her anxious. When she was diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa, it made her mad. She refused to let it limit her. Leaving the police force and going private meant she could continue being an investigator. But the wrist injury and potential for further injuring her ankle were limits she couldn’t fight. Reluctantly, she had to accept needing help.

Mike was limited by Crowley’s restrictions. But a man hunt for the potential serial killer obsessed with her needed all of his attention. A woman potentially died because of a physical similarity. The killer had to be his priority. If she was honest with herself, their relationship. Friends, more than friends. Suffered from their conflicting perspectives. Outside of a life-threatening emergency, Vicki suspected the damage was irreversible.

The problems with Henry were completely different but equally problematic. He couldn’t help her during the day. When he woke up that night, he would want to focus on the obsessive offender instead of her memory problems.

She was on her own.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Vicki scolded herself, reaching for her laptop. Detective or private investigator, she was damn good. If what was happening tied to past cases, she was the best person to find the connection.

“If a client brought this mess,” she said quietly, reaching for a new notebook, “Where would I start?”

Behavioral analysis and informal checklists she developed as a police officer. On the surface, the homicide suspect looked like an attention-seeking stalker. Possibly an ertomaniac that imagined a complex romantic relationship. Alternatively, the staging of crime scenes, releasing his victim for witnesses to report and leaving her body nearby to be found by police officers suggested a rare type of serial offender that taunted the police.

The altar suggested he knew about the type of cases she accepted. Likely because of Coreen’s ads. Henry checked the house and was positive it wasn’t accurate for a summoning. He thought the stone looked like something from an old cemetery.

If she wasn’t convinced the park, angel and nightmare were connected to a supernatural being, she would have considered trauma-induced amnesia. Based on the night terror that affected her heart, trauma was still a possibility for different reasons. The physical symptoms were a side-effect of the angel making contact.

Vicki sat back and looked at her notes. She was missing something. The officers’ attitude toward the park and the first break-in said there was something else happening. Mike wouldn’t answer her questions. That meant added more possibilities. Unless several people were simultaneously targeting her, someone orchestrated it.

Why?

A knock startled her. Henry arranged to have the door replaced. She stopped accepting cases days ago and still had a notice posted.

With as much dignity as she could fake, Vicki stood and walked toward the door. She lost her night stick at the park. Not that she could use it. The pain meds barely kept her upright. If took enough to deal with the pain, she was at risk of falling asleep. That was potentially life-threatening without someone to wake her.

Get a grip, she told herself as she opened the door.

A model level gorgeous man in white and tan business casual clothes stood poised to knock again. He lowered his hand, with a gold signet ring, and smiled. “Ms. Nelson, I am Nicholas Demetriou.”

Greek? Vicki wondered, trying to place the accent.

“Margaret Winthrop said you needed a new assistant.”

The name sounded familiar except Vicki couldn’t place it. “I’m not currently accepting cases.”

“She provided several recommendations.” He held out a pocket folder.

The only Winthrop that came to mind died. Her granddaughter was struggling with unethical family members because she couldn’t find a copy of her grandmother’s will. The family attorney was trying to manipulate her. “How is Mrs. Winthrop?”

Nicholas laughed, his eyes lighting up. “Haunting her nephew for trying to steal his cousin’s inheritance.”

“You talk to ghosts?” Once that would have sounded crazy.

“On occasion they talk to me.” He reminded her of Henry somehow. More than the obvious ego and self-assurance.

If he was a threat, the door wouldn’t hold him. Resigned, she stepped back and motioned him into the nearly empty room. The took what they wanted from the debris. The rest of the junk went into a dumpster while the door was fixed.

“Redecorating?”

“A break-in.” Vicki wondered the best way to talk him into leaving. Working for her wasn’t safe. Everyone around her was threatened and injured. Coreen had lasting psychological damage.

“You are in luck. I have experience with repairs.”

She doubted it, looking at his hands. No callouses. With his looks, he could get paid for being pretty. “The landlord is making arrangements.” He also suggested, with little subtlety, that she move her office when the lease was up. If not sooner.

“Nicholas,” she said carefully, “I’m not hiring. If you saw the news in the last twenty four hours, I was found unconscious. I don’t know who’s after me. It’s not safe to be around me right now.”

A flash of something crossed his face. She wasn’t sure, but she suspected it was anger. Why do you care? The more she thought about it, the more she wondered who he was and why he was there.

He reached under his shirt and removed a medallion on a chain. “I know how to protect myself.”

Vicki didn’t have the strength argue. If he filled out an application, she could give the information to Mike. She walked past him toward her office. “Paying you will be difficult without cases.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Police Station**

Mike Celluci returned to the station half awake. He needed coffee. With nothing more to do, he went home to eat, shower and catch a few hours of sleep if possible. He managed three or four before he was called back in. They had the suspect.

Standing in an observation room adjacent to the interrogation room, he watched a young man through the window. He paced with tangible anxiety. While his behavior didn’t guarantee he was innocent, it supported it.

Kate entered with a folder. She looked annoyed. He wasn’t sure what angered her but it had something to do with Vicki. “Joshua Thompson. Age 27. An inventor with no priors and a solid alibi.” Pause. “Uniforms arrested him when he came home from a meeting in Vancouver.”

“What’s his explanation for the basement?”

“Example props for a low budget horror movie. His roommate was filming some kind of demo while he was gone.”

That sounded dumb enough to be true. “Do we have the roommate?”

“At the morgue. Kevin Johnson was found on the bike trail two days ago. North of the woman. Almost to the bridge. It looked like a mugging gone wrong.”

“How solid’s the alibi?”

“The company flew him to and from Vancouver. CCTV shows him exiting the plane. We’re waiting back from Vancouver PD. But the hotel says he ordered breakfast in his room all three mornings.”

Mike didn’t like it. “Anything stand out in the autopsy?” Lewis had injuries consistent with cold exposure but there was no evidence she was molested.

“No.”

He hated going into an interrogation with nothing. While Thompson wasn’t the killer, he was connected somehow. Getting information out of a terrified suspect was difficult.

Mike entered. “Joshua Thompson, Detectives Celluci and Lam. Will you sit down, please.” He sat with his back to the mirror and opened the folder Kate gave him.

Thompson sat but couldn’t sit still. Caffeine, drugs or anxiety.

“Do you know this woman?” Mike set a picture from the pub’s CCTV in front of him.

“Sophie. Why?”

He removed a picture of Vicki. “What about her?”

Thompson shook his head.

“Miss Lewis was found dead in Etobicoke Creek south of Horner Ave.” Mike waited a moment. “Her fingerprints.” He set a picture of the stone slab and candles on top of Vicki’s. “And blood were found in your basement.”

“That’s a movie set,” Thompson emphasized. “Sophie was helping Kevin.”

Mike unfortunately believed Thompson’s confusion. “How did you get the stone into the house? It’s extremely heavy.”

“I don’t know.” Thompson kept shaking his head. “Kevin set it up after I left.”

“Did he tell you anything about the movie project? Where he was getting props? Who he was working with?”

“It had a cheesy plot involving Lakeshore Psychiatric hospital and cultists using the cemetery for a ritual involving an evil psychologist and a demonic entity.”

Mike hoped it was just a bad horror movie. Toronto had an epidemic of crazy lately. “Did it involve the Creek or Queen Elizabeth bridge?”

“The full script had the cultists transporting the woman they thought was dead from the cemetery to the bridge and throwing her off.”

That was too much of a coincidence. “Were any of the characters killed on the bike trail?”

“I don’t know. The screenplay’s on Kevin’s computer.”

Mike looked at Kate. He didn’t remember a computer being recovered from the house. She held up her phone and stepped out of the room.

He picked up the picture of the stone revealing Vicki’s picture. “There was a wall-sized collage of her on the basement wall. Did the plot involve a stalker?”

Thompson shook his head.

“Did Kevin like to take pictures of women?”

“I don’t think he likes women.”

“He was gay?”

Thompson looked like he realized something. “Was?”

Mike provided the basic details of Johnson’s death. “Can you think of anyone who wanted to harm him?”

“No.”

After questioning Thompson for half-an-hour Mike had more questions than he started with and no idea how to get the answers. He needed backgrounds on Lewis, Johnson and Thompson. They attracted the wrong attention somehow. The pub came to mind. The killer had to know CCTV would lead the police to the house. Unless he was stalking the trio, he knew them. The missing computer suggested an online connection.

**Vicki’s Office**

Vicki Nelson opted to contact Lakeview Library and ask questions instead of going. After explaining it to two different people, she was told someone would call her back. Her patience was wearing thin. She needed answers. Nothing in her papers or emails filled the gaps in her memory.

Nicholas stepped into the open doorway much like Coreen used to. After filling out the application, he went and retrieved a laptop and case from his car. He arranged a chair and table from somewhere. Despite no employment agreement, he sat in the reception area typing on his computer and happily singing in a language she didn’t recognize.

“I found something.”

Vicki wondered if she should encourage him. “Solve one of your cases?”

“One of yours.” He walked over to her desk holding his laptop. “A group of women celebrating a divorce took pictures of themselves on East Beach. The night you were found unconscious.”

How drunk were they? She wondered looking at the screen.

He motioned toward one side. “He is in three different pictures. The women thought he was watching them.”

Why didn’t the police find that? They either didn’t look hard enough. Based on their attitude of the responding officers that wouldn’t surprise her. Or they needed to know where to look.

“Did they know him?” Vicki kept the suspicion from her voice. His timing was bad. Her hospital stay was public knowledge. It wouldn’t take much to find out Coreen took time off. The incident in the strip club was publicized as a result of her being drugged. His reference was a ghost she had no way to speak to. Although it made her wonder how he knew about it.

Nicholas withdrew the laptop. “One person thinks he works in an antique shop near Beck Park.”

She mentally pictured the area. It took a moment, but she realized it was next to Alderwood Library. That reminded her of Mike’s case. “How far is it from Alderwood Church?”

He set the computer on the desk and typed. “A few blocks.”

Before Vicki could decide what to do with the information, her cell phone rang. She checked the screen as she picked it up from the desk. Lakewood was finally calling her back. “Hello.” She reached for a notebook hopeful for information.

Nicholas walked out without a word.

“Ms. Nelson,” a young woman said nervously. “This is Chelsea.”

“Did your coworker explain why I was calling?”

“You don’t remember me.”

That was progress. “Something happened after I went to the library. I need to know what I was investigating.”

Chelsea sounded uneasy. “A girl’s stalking my brother Colin.” Pause. “His boyfriend Kevin disappeared. The police are saying he was killed on the bike trail near his place.”

“I need names and details.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Vicki’s Office**

Henry Fitzroy unlocked the door with his new key. The reception area looked better than the last time he saw it and smelled like plaster. He wrinkled his nose. While he had no doubt Vicki might try to move furniture and fix walls, she was in no condition for it.

He stepped into the open doorway to her office. She slept with her head down on the desk. It looked uncomfortable but her heart rate sounded good.

“Vicki.” Usually when he approached her awake, she sensed him. It proved she wasn’t scared of him at least. When saying her name again, he lightly set his hand on hers.

A moment later, she her eye lids fluttered. “Nicholas?” She sounded confused.

Definitely not the highlight of his night. “Who’s Nicholas?”

Vicki rested her cheek against his hand. “I haven’t figured that out yet.” She looked up with tired eyes. “He wants to be my new assistant. Says Margaret Winthrop referred him.”

“He talks to ghosts?” That was a rare skill and most people claiming it didn’t have it.

Vicki sat back. “I don’t know.” She rubbed her eyes. “Something’s off with him.”

Without thinking, he reached forward and brushed the side of his hand over her cheek. It answered his question as to whether he was going to stay. He couldn’t resist her. “Back to bed?”

“I need to see my apartment.”

Henry traced a thumb over her lips. “It can wait.” Not that he could do more than tuck her in. Although he wondered if her acceptance of his touch was necessity or interest. With the injuries, and the ongoing threat, she had to rely on someone.

“I need food.” Vicki stood, grimacing. “And stuff.”

“Pain medication.”

She reluctantly agreed as she moved around her desk.

Her cell rang before she reached the door to reception. She looked at the screen giving away the caller before answering it. “Hey.”

Henry hated the jealousy. He was tired of competing for her affection with a man that didn’t appreciate her. He unfortunately understood the complications with past relationships. She needed to end it. Easier said than done. She couldn’t see what he cost her.

“Have you heard from Colin Harris?” Mike’s tone caught Henry’s attention. “Uniforms found his apartment in worse condition than yours. Someone attempted to break-in at the antique shop, but something stopped them.”

“He’s not answering his phone. It goes straight to voice mail. I left messages.”

Henry opened the door to the hallway. From her body language, he knew plans had changed. She couldn’t stop being an investigator even if she couldn’t be a detective anymore. The bravery and determination still appealed. But the stubborn that went with it tried his patience. It bordered on suicidal at times.

Vicki continued, walking out. “Colin probably witnessed what happened to me at Curtis Park. The stalker wall and the murdered girl might have been retaliation for something I did.” She didn’t like that possibility. “Or he approached me because he was being stalked by someone obsessed with me.”

“I spoke with Chelsea. Some of what she said doesn’t check out.”

Henry pressed the lift button, waiting for the elevator and the call to end. Unfortunately, he’d lived long enough to know that ultimatums didn’t work. She had to see Mike for what he was to accept it.

“Where are we going?” He asked as she ended the call.

“An antique shop in Alderwood.”

**History’s Treasures**

Vicki Nelson looked at the storefront and concluded “antique shop” was generous. It looked like a thrift store with delusions of grandeur. Henry noticed an ugly piece of wooden furniture in the window and seemed oddly focused on it.

She moved over to him, the effort reminding her that her injuries were far from healed. “What?”

“It’s mislabeled.”

“You recognize it?”

Henry nodded. “It’s Victorian.”

Vicki knew she was missing something. “Listing it as German makes it worth more or less?”

“Significantly less.”

She nudged him.

“An abused wife found her husband’s mistress near death and with a servant they escaped. The servant introduced them to magic.” He sounded like it was a forgone conclusion. “They targeted their abuser.”

“By cursing his furniture?” As much as she meant it as a joke, she wondered if that was where the story went.

“No.” Henry hesitated. “The husband had children with his first wife. He viewed his only daughter as a way to make money.”

“Lovely.” At least when her father decided she wasn’t worth his time, he left.

“His first goal was an arranged marriage. When that didn’t work, he sold Adelia.” It wasn’t a good memory. “I barely got to her in time.”

“You were together.”

Henry nodded. “With her father gone, her stepmother needed his sons gone for hers to inherit. She killed Adelia’s older brothers. Then came for the younger ones.” Pause. “Eight people were dead before it was over.”

“What happened to Adelia?”

“She married a man old enough to be her grandfather. He needed someone to take care of him.” Henry smiled with mischief. “I climbed in her window for a few years until her husband died and she married someone who could give her children.”

She suspected it didn’t end there. “The chair?”

Henry’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “The mistress reportedly turned Adelia’s stepmother into a chair that resembled her soul.”

“Very funny.”

“It’s the occult value of it.”

Vicki groaned. “Recognize the others?”

He looked around. “The jewelry box symbols are part of an incantation for fidelity.”

Without thinking, she crossed her arms. Then grimaced. “Seriously.”

That amused him more. “Probably commissioned by a man wanting to make sure his kids were his.”

“It’s a magic antiquities store.” She wouldn’t if it was coincidental. “What about the stone slab in Thompson’s basement?” That was potentially a occult artifact.

“I don’t know.”

Vicki needed to research it. She wished she could call Coreen. “There’s an anthropologist that studies funeral practices.” She remembered how she knew that as she turned back toward Henry’s car. “Margaret Winthrop funded his research.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Toronto Necropolis**

Mike Celluci waited near a crypt for the head ground’s keeper. He called hours ago and reported one of the mausoleums had been broken into. Items were stolen. It wasn’t until uniforms came to take a statement that he provided a description.

“Evening, Detective.”

Startled, Mike turned. A man in his sixties approached slowly without making a sound.

“I am Louis Bordeaux.”

“Evening.”

Louis held out a pocket folder. “That’s everything taken.”

Mike opened it and pages through the photocopies of pages from a book. “How old are these pictures?”

“1979. Bad construction caused part of the back wall to collapse and it had to be repaired.” Louis sounded certain.

Mike looked up. “You were here when it was sealed?”

Louis nodded. “I was with my sister when she took the pictures.” Pause. “My family has worked here for generations.”

Once, Mike wouldn’t have thought twice about a family that maintained a cemetery. It reminded him of the voodoo zombie case Vicki investigated. While a French name more likely indicated his family came from France or Quebec, he couldn’t help but wonder.

He closed the folder and found his phone. “A large, stone slab was found at a crime scene.” The crime scene team was still unsure how to move it. They had no idea how anyone got it into the basement. “Do you recognize it?” He held up his phone for Louis.

“Yes,” he said sadly. “It was stolen from the catacombs under Lakeshore Psychiatric Hospital in the 80s before it became Humber College.”

Catacombs? Mike didn’t want to think about that. He opened the folder and flipped through. “Is it similar to the one stolen from here?”

**Anthropologist’s Office**

The anthropologist’s office was on the third floor of an old office building blocks from the Toronto Necropolis. Based on the unusual artwork and event fliers posted in various places, it housed academics.

The elevator jumbled slightly and Vicki Nelson reluctantly grabbed Henry to stay upright. The injuries not only disrupted her balance, they pissed her off. Simply walking around, which should have taken no time at all, took forever. The pain blurred her already bad vision.

“You need to rest,” Henry said carefully.

Except that wouldn’t answer questions. She needed to know what happened in Curtis Park and how it connected to the homicide Mike was investigating. She couldn’t do that from Henry’s apartment.

“I can’t.”

The elevator doors opened and Vicki walked out trying to ignore the pain.

Reluctantly, Henry followed. “What about Nicholas?”

Vicki wondered that herself. “I called while you were in the store and left a message. The recording said he would call people after first light.”

He was oddly quietly the rest of the way down the hall. She stopped a few feet from the doctor’s door and looked at him.

“What?”

“You said the being in your memory and dream was an angel. Why?”

The images came to mind. Vicki thought about it for a moment. “He looked like an angel. Glowing white and gold.”

“Angel stories are common. Visions, dreams, visitations. I have never heard one where a person lost their memory or had a nightmare from the encounter.”

“He’s a creature of some kind.” Vicki knew that already. Then she realized what he was saying. “You think it’s Nicholas.”

“The timing. The Winthrop reference.”

Vicki thought about the day. He made her uneasy at times because she didn’t know him. But nothing he did was suspicious. Beyond showing up and declaring himself her assistant. “I don’t know.”

The elevator door opened before Henry could respond. They turned and looked as Mike stepped into the hallway. He didn’t look surprised to see them. Henry set a hand on her back as Mike approached. The gesture and his expression didn’t need interpretation. They were both possessive and jealous.

“Mike…”

The door opened and a man in his late fifties stepped back, holding it open for them. Dr. Bordeaux looked like his university profile. “Please come in.”

Vicki led into the office. Henry followed close behind, keeping a hand on her back. That would not be a fun conversation. She didn’t need to see Mike’s face as he shut the door a bit too hard to know what he thought of the situation. That guaranteed another unfortunate discussion.

It was bigger than her office without a separate reception area with well-worn furniture, filing cabinets and shelves. It had a few urns and cemetery-inspired artwork on the walls. Books of varying sizes were stacked everywhere. There was a single chair for guests opposite his his desk.

Henry guided her over to it and without a word insisted she sit. Another day, she would have argued with him. It was probably the only thing he and Mike agreed on.

“Why the sudden interested in cemeteries?” Dr. Bordeaux asked walked to office chair.

Mike explained his visit to the Toronto Necropolis and it’s connection to Lakeshore Asylum Cemetery. “The thefts somehow connect to a homicide investigation.” He looked at Vicki.

She explained her private investigation was somehow related and the possible connection to occult rituals associated with burial artifacts.

The anthropologist focused on Mike. “You haven’t read the theft report.” Pause. “A cult leader was committed in the early seventies. Accounts vary. But he died. A probable overdose. He was cremated. But his followers were convinced his body was buried in the catacombs that were already sealed at the time of his death.” He handed a folder to Mike. “Two women claiming to be the leader’s spirit wives found a way to break the seal and steal the stone from what they said was his coffin in an attempt to revive him.”

“Were any bodies removes from the catacomb?” Mike sounded like he knew something.

“A body they claimed was their cult leader. She was the daughter of a psychiatrist that worked at the hospital.” Dr. Bordeaux motioned toward the folder. “For some reason the cultists threw the remains off a bridge. They were recovered and re-interred.”

Mike nodded.

“They kept the crypt stone?”

“I don’t know. Considering how much it weighed, we suspected they somehow hid it. There was no way they could have taken it.” The anthropologist shook his head. “Obviously they did.”

A few more minutes of questions resulted in nothing knew. They thanked Dr. Bordeaux and left.

Vicki felt like she was standing in the middle of a silent argument. The tension was tangible. When she stumbled on a piece of torn carpet, Henry wrapped an arm around her waist and kept it there. In an asinine display of possessiveness. Commenting was guaranteed to anger one or both of them and they needed to work together.

Mike waited until the elevator door closed. “You need to go home.”

Predictable, Henry said, “She’s staying with me.”

“I think Sophie Lewis was killed by a woman.” Vicki gave it a moment. “According to Chelsea, Colin was stalked by a woman. The person who hurt me didn’t molest me. Lewis wasn’t molested.” An assumption based on what Mike said about the case. She should have called Rajani and asked for details.

“Lewis’ was poisoned.”

She nodded as the elevator door opened. That definitely sounded like a woman. As Vicki stepped out, she looked down at her wrists. Because of the brace, she could only see one of the demon symbols. “She’s trying to summon something.” Maybe the cult leader.


	8. Chapter 8

**Intersection of The West Mall and The Queensway (roads); Toronto, Canada**

**Thursday, December 13, 2007**

Mike Celluci parked on the side of the road beyond the chaos. Preliminary details said a forty-eight year-old businessman had a heart attack while driving and went through a red light. With the slick, snowy conditions it resulted in a ten vehicle accident. A senior center passenger van was knocked into a dealership’s lot and parked cars. An SUV’S bad breaks were dislodged sending it and five people through small trees and into Etobicoke Creek. Last he heard twenty-two people went to the hospital by ambulance. The victim that interested him wasn’t involved in the accident.

He climbed out of his unmarked police car. Ambulance, police and fire sirens were still coming and going. Uniformed officers had the area blocked off. Crime scene techs assessed the numerous collisions. One group of officers and techs focused on the Creek. He walked toward them.

Bystanders rushing to help the passengers in the SUV found a woman unconscious in rocky area on the other side of the water. Mike received minimal details. Other than it had similarities to what happened to Vicki in Curtis Park and Sophie Lewis who was found dead in the Creek. Both south of the current scene.

Kate met him halfway across The Queensway. She looked cold, despite her thick parka, and angry. That seemed to be her thing lately. She already requested a new partner. Crowley hadn’t made the arrangements yet. Although Kate was probably getting transferred out of homicide. He could only guess she said something that angered Crowley.

“There’s no evidence. Nothing to even indicate how she got there. Uniforms are canvasing area businesses. CCTV for the accident shows nothing.” Kate held out her phone showing a picture of an unconscious First Nation woman on a gurney. “The location is the only connection to Sophie Lewis or Vicki.”

“Do we have an ID?”

“Charlotte Arnaud. Her mother and ex-boyfriend filed a missing persons report last night. She had an argument with the ex at a coffee shop on Lakeshore and Long Branch that afternoon. Her friends on social media realized there was a problem within a couple hours. By the time they filed the report, more then twenty people were searching for her.”

“We need to look for a connection to Lewis. It’s possibly cult related.” Mike explained what he learned from the anthropologist about the cemetery thefts. He was still waiting back for research on the mausoleum at the Necropolis, the APB for Colin Harris and a search warrant for his social media for information about his stalker.

“You going to ask Vicki?”

“If she remembers anything, she will call.”

That made Kate angrier. “What happened to staying away from her?”

Are you jealous? Mike wondered. “She’s a potential witness in the investigation.”

“You’re not allowed to talk to her anymore. Then conveniently she has an incident and her office and apartment are broken into. Now she’s back working with the department.”

He took a moment trying to process that. “Vicki’s not working. She’s trying to fill in the gaps in her memory.

“Right.” Kate walked around him to her car.

**Vicki’s New Apartment**

After meeting with the anthropologist, Vicki Nelson reluctantly accepted she needed rest again. And pain pills. She hoped Henry wasn’t getting bored. Moving the crypt stones suggested something supernatural was involved with the cult. But so far it was a mundane investigation.

The elevator stopped.

“What?” Henry lightly rubbed the small of her back.

“You have to be tired of babysitting,” she said as they stepped through the open doors.

He slid his hand around around her waist. “It has it’s benefits.” He turned away from his apartment. “This way.”

“Going to make me guess?”

“The sleeping arrangements made me think.” Henry sounded amused. “For security reasons, I bought out the other tenants. I own everything on this floor.”

“Meaning?” Vicki suspected she already knew.

Henry leaned in and spoke softly in her ear. “I have an excuse to keep you close.”

Making him harder to resist. It wasn’t as if she could hide her attraction. He could hear subtle changes to her pulse and breathing.

They stopped in front of a door down the hall from his. She leaned back, closing her eyes as he slid a hand over her stomach. While he unlocked the door with his free hand.

“Remember the dream.” Henry opened the door and continued speaking as they entered. “Where you thought I came to your bed.”

Impossible to forget.

He shut the door behind them. “Running my hands over your body.” He tucked the keys in her pocket. Then reached up, drew the hair away from her neck and lightly kissed her.

“Henry,” she managed softly.

He moved suddenly and lifted her, careful not to bump her injuries. Vicki struggled to remember her objections as he carried her toward the bedroom. Music switched on from some type of motion sensor sound system as they moved through the open doors. Henry set her on satin sheets in the middle of a queen-sized bed.

She opened her eyes, meeting his as he sat on the edge of the bed. “You planned this.” Satin sheets, a crystal vase full of long stem roses, music. Not that it surprised her. It was a matter of time before their relationship changed.

“Seeing you in my bed was intoxicating.” He slid his finger tips from her elbow to her wrist.

Her cell phone rang.

Henry picked up her hand, twining their fingers together and kissed her inner wrist.

It sounded lame, but she couldn’t think straight when he touched her. “No strenuous activity.” It wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have with an ER doctor.

“Just recreating your dream.” His eyes sparkled with amusement. “I promise not to kiss anywhere bruised.”

**Mississauga Hospital**

Standing in the ER break room room, Mike Celluci looked at is phone annoyed. He needed information. While Vicki said she was going to rest, he doubted it. More likely she dodged his calls because she was doing something she didn’t want him to know about.

“Detective Celluci?” A woman asked softly.

He looked up as a nurse approached.

“I’m Olivia. I was told you wanted to speak to me about Victoria Nelson.”

Mike removed a notebook from an inside jacket pocket. “You were on duty when she was admitted?”

She nodded. “And discharged.”

“Did anything unusual happen? Guests? Calls?”

“Uh.” Olivia took a moment. “A man called. Two, three times.”

“Reporter?”

She shook her head. “They don’t ask for medical information.”

Since when? “What did he ask?”

“How bad were her injuries? Would she recover? I told him we couldn’t provide information over the phone.”

That sounded like a reporter. Unless he was involved in whatever happened in Curtis Park. “You took all three calls?”

Olivia nodded. “He could have called more.”

Not unless he expected someone else to provide the information. “Did he give his name? Or any indication of who he was?”

“He had an accent. I didn’t recognize it.”

According to uniforms questioning people in Vicki’s building, there was a Greek man coming and going from her office during the day. No one recognized him.

“He was persistent.”

So are you. Mike wondered if the nurse had an agenda. Being a witness might mean interviews or attention. Because the hospital had a switchboard network, it would be incredibly difficult if not impossible to disprove. Especially if they received a lot of calls.

“Would you recognize his voice?”

“I don’t know.”

Mike reached into his pocket for a business card. If she wanted attention, she would definitely contact him. Ideally he would be able to figure out her motivation. “If you think of anything else, please call.”

She accepted the card. As she walked away, Mike realized there was another possibility. Some types of offenders involved themselves in investigations. With what he knew of Sophie Lewis’ killer, it was a definitely possibility. He needed to find out why Olivia was caring for Vicki.


	9. Chapter 9

**Goth Club**

Henry Fitzroy wore black. He wouldn’t blend but he wouldn’t stand out either. Moving through the crowd was a struggle against distraction, everything felt more intense than usual. A whirlwind of sensory input heightening his need to feed.

But it wasn’t his immediate concern. Coreen sat in a corner with her back to the wall. Shadows marred her eyes from lack of sleep. Combined with being tense and hyper aware. Not surprising for a woman that barely survived demon possession. Even if Astaroth hadn’t abused her body and reputation, it would have traumatized her.

He pulled out a chair and sat across from her. It somehow made her more jittery. Although not sure how, he suspected she sensed him. Her experience might have had unexpected consequences or side-effects. No one escaped evil unchanged.

“Evening.”

“Something’s wrong.” Coreen sounded more afraid than she had on the phone. “I see auras.”

Why does it scare you? Henry wondered. “What do they tell you?”

“It varies. She lied to her boyfriend about going out tonight.” She motioned at people in the room while she talked. “She’s cheating.” Her eyes darkened as she focused on a man. “He’s a rapist.”

“Do you know them?”

She shook her head.

Henry needed to check if her information was accurate. If it wasn’t, she needed immediate psychological care. If it was, there was a predator he needed to deal with. “Wait here.” He stood and walked toward the potential rapist.

Nothing stood out suggesting violence. The woman dancing with him looked unconcerned. But human predators often blended with their intended prey. Using his ability to compel, he drew the man across the room to give them some privacy. Compelled to answer several questions about dating, the man revealed his intentions for the night. He had drugs in his pocket.

Not wanting to let the rapist, or Coreen out of sight, Henry brought the man to her table. Then found his phone. As a matter of necessity, he had Mike’s number.

“What?” He sounded annoyed.

“I have a complicated situation.” A euphemism for a supernatural problem.

“I have work to do.”

Henry wondered if the attitude resulted from Vicki ignoring Mike’s calls. “I found a rapist.” Henry gave the club name. “You deal with him or I will.”

Waiting with Coreen, he wondered how to deal with the bigger problem. How did she know? The possession was likely a result of Vicki using dark magic to save him. Her interest and research aptitude might indicate a latent ability. Possibly some type of survival response to exposure to evil.

Coreen removed a pen and paper from her purse. “You should ask him for details. Detective Celluci needs proof.”

**Vicki’s New Apartment**

Vicki Nelson sat at a small table drinking coffee and reviewing news articles on her laptop at 1 AM. The conversation her and Henry needed to have kept distracting her. She needed a solid way to approach ground rules without sounding as controlling as it was. The conflict between him and Mike was guaranteed to escalate. Not to mention how he would react.

Her cell phone rang. She checked the screen as she picked it up. “Hey.” The conversation with Mike would be worse.

“Where are you?” It sounded like an accusation.

Was there an answer that wouldn’t piss him off, Vicki wondered. “At Henry’s.” She didn’t look forward to explaining the new apartment.

“We need to talk.”

Vicki wondered if his attitude was because she ignored his calls or Henry said something. While sharing the details wasn’t his style, being territorial and possessiveness were. Resigned to the first argument, she explained where she was.

Only after the terse call did she wonder what the urgency was. It had to be bad if Mike was working over night. The media’s description of the Charlie Arnaud case suggested the similarities between her and Sophie Lewis investigations were coincidental. But Vicki didn’t have enough information to know for sure.

Minutes later, the door opened. Henry kept a key. Not surprising, but it added to the conversation they needed to have.

When a second set of footsteps entered with him, she thought of Coreen. That was another difficult conversation. Starting with what changed. Henry went to meet her because she hadn’t wanted to come to his apartment. Too much had happened. Most of it, Vicki knew, was her fault.

“Did you take your medication?” He walked over to her.

“Half.” She couldn’t risk it affecting her ability to think or make her sleepy.

Henry set his hands on the back of her chair as Coreen approached. She claimed a chair across the table and sat. Everything from the look in her eyes to her body language was different than the day she came into the office convinced her boyfriend was killed by a vampire. They had both been different.

“What happened?”

Coreen spoke quietly without making eye contact. “I can read auras.”

“Specifically sins.” Henry explained what happened at the club. From his tone, he didn’t have an explanation.

Vicki’s first thought was to ask about her corrupted life force. They weren’t ready for that conversation. “When did it start?”

“After…” Demon possession was a type of violation. Coreen’s guilt mingled with shame and was complicated by being unable to find a legitimate therapist familiar with her problem or a support group she could share the details with. A constant reminder made it worse.

Vicki wished she knew what to say. “How can I help?”

“I need to use it.”

From her own experiences with the demon symbols on her wrists, Vicki understood. But circumstances were different. “How?”

“Keep working. I…” Coreen hesitated. “I have to do something.”

Vicki wasn’t sure that was a good idea. Not so soon. “The only case right now is my own.”

Coreen nodded too quickly.

“I offered another apartment,” Henry said. “She can work from here.”

That added to the conversation they needed to have. Vicki had no idea what his finances looked like. While she assumed he could afford the added expenses, she needed to ask. But had no idea how. He gave new meaning to old fashioned.

Mike Celluci approached the door and hesitated. He needed information. Antagonizing Vicki wouldn’t help. If he had any illusions about their relationship, they ended when he told Vicki he couldn’t pick her up from the hospital. Mike suspected it emboldened Henry. The apartment supported the theory.

Resigned, Mike knocked. Henry opened it a couple minutes later. They stared at each other briefly. Then he stepped back and motioned Mike in.

He reminded himself he made a choice as he entered the apartment. The only reason the department granted an exception was the case directly involved Vicki. But it was going to escalate. The media already found out about the false accusations against her. It was a matter of time before the restriction leaked. Then reporters would start asking why a retired police detective with a solid record was being disrespected by the department.

The mood at the table as Mike approached reminded him of the rapist situation. Henry’s explanation had holes. Coreen was involved somehow but she wouldn’t answer basic questions or look him in the eyes. After what she went through, Mike couldn’t push.

“Could you give us a minute?”

She nodded in a jerky motion and stood abruptly. More indications of a struggling survivor. With no idea what to say, he waited for her to walk away and then claimed the seat she vacated.

“What happened?”

Mike didn’t know where to start. “Do you remember an Olivia Brown at the hospital? A nurse.”

“Yeah.”

He quickly explained the phone call conversation. “She traded duties and shifts both nights to be on your floor.” Pause. “Did she say or do anything?”

“No.” Vicki looked like she remembered something. “She asked about being a private investigator and the kind of cases.” Pause. “Normal stuff.”

“Did she ask for specifics?”

She closed her eyes. “No.” Minutes passed. “Olivia said she was researching her family. I thought it was genealogy sites.” Vicki looked at Mike. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“The cult and cemetery thefts connect to various crimes.” He hesitated. It sounded crazy. But after everything, he had a bad feeling. “They might be demon worshipers.” With Astaroth possessing a priest, it was a matter of time before the problems started.


	10. Chapter 10

**Vicki’s New Apartment**

Vicki Nelson sat on the new sofa leaning on the back with her feet on Henry’s lap. She read handwritten notes about social media sightings near Curtis Park around the time of her disappearance. Coreen started looking into it as soon as she heard. Despite the awkwardness between them. She sat on the other side of the coffee table holding a laptop. He read a book on angels in Toronto he picked up somewhere. Holding it with one hand, he absently ran his fingers tips down the inside of her leg. Seemingly unaware he was distracting her.

There wasn’t a lot of information available. December was not a good time for the park or beach. Nevertheless at night. But it meant people noticed. The drunk women weren’t the only ones who saw Colin. What stood out was no one mentioned cars or her.

“Do we have pictures from the area around the Park?” Vicki realized something she should have thought of to begin with. How did she get there? If she took a taxi, the police should have that information already. But she wasn’t confident they were looking.

Without thinking, she reached for her cell phone with her injured wrist. Then grimaced. “Will you hand me my phone.”

Coreen set the computer on the coffee table. Then picked up the cell phone as she stood. She avoided eye contact as she walked over to hand it over and withdrew her hand quickly. The uneasiness reminded Vicki of the aura comments and wondered what hers looked like. Coreen returned to her chair as Vicki called.

Since she couldn’t drive, it wasn’t unusual for her to request cabs at all hours. So the dispatchers knew her. As a regular customer, it didn’t take much encouragement to get details. The police instructed them not to provide information about her movements. That meant they were investigating something.

“I wasn’t dropped off anywhere near the Park.” Vicki set the phone on her stomach. “Either I walked or someone left me.” The latter meant she was abducted. The lack of information was maddening.

“Is it possible you misinterpreted the angel?” Henry sounded distracted. “Could he have kept someone from leaving you in the Creek?”

That offered new possibilities. “What about the nightmare?”

“An unexpected side-effect?” There was something about his tone.

What aren’t you telling me?

“Throwing people in the water might be part of a ritual.” Coreen sounded uncertain. “A sacrifice.”

When she didn’t continue, Vicki looked up. “But?”

“The cult information doesn’t mention angels or demons.”

Using his finger for a bookmark, Henry closed his book. “In the early 1900s, a psychic had a series of visions. Each involved a powerful heathen priest attacking a cursed woman and dying. His death freed an ancient being. Beautiful, glowing white and gold.”

Coreen paled. “Pacha Kamaq.”

Not a good memory. Vicki used Henry’s blood to taint her life force. When the Incan priest tried to absorb it, he died. Henry felt betrayed and it looked like he might not forgive her. The ritual attracted the wrong attention and led to Coreen being possessed.

“The being will lift the curse in return for her first born.”

Coreen stood, looking sick and hurried toward the bathroom.

Vicki waited for the door to close. Then focused on Henry. “Does it say how the woman gets pregnant?”

He looked and sounded disturbed. “No.”

Vicki leaned forward and reached out, touching his shoulder. “We don’t know it means me.” But she doubted any of them believed it.

That left Coreen unable to continue researching. Henry showed her the new apartment. When he returned they could talk. Easier said then done. What Vicki did to save him was still a problem between them. The idea that she would sacrifice a child, any child, to save herself was insane. But in his eyes, she had already done the unthinkable.

She distracted herself with the social media notes. His comment on misinterpreting came to mind. The cult was interested in her and probably summoning, but that didn’t mean they wanted a demon. The first cemetery theft was nearly twenty years ago. That was long before she received the marks.

Vicki swung her legs over the side of the sofa, grimaced from the pain. If sacrificing her failed, she wondered, why kill Lewis? A surrogate? Except the stone had to be prepared before whatever happened in the Park. Maybe what was intended to happened failed. The angel interfered. Or he was successfully summoned. That would meant Lewis was an offering. None of it explained why Olivia made the effort at the hospital. Or how Colin was involved.

The door opened again as Vicki looked at her wrist brace. She didn’t even know what caused her injuries. The doctor didn’t think she was beaten. The x-rays suggested she fell or was possibly hit by a car.

“You should sleep.”

Vicki wondered what worried him. “We should talk.”

“In bed?” Henry flashed a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

She held out her hand. “Another night.” After the bruises healed.

He looked uncharacteristically hesitant as he returned to the sofa. The uneasiness between them was a reminder of what she did to save him. The psychic prediction on how she saved herself was no less horrifying to her as how he viewed what she did.

It was ironic she lost his trust protecting him. “I don’t know where to start.” Vicki set a hand on his leg. “Are we good?”

“Yes.” He set a hand on hers and twined their fingers together. “We need time. Not words.”

“Henry…”

He leaned over and kissed her. “I have forgiven Christina for far worse.” Pause. “We need time and the certainty it will never happen again.”

What could she say to that? Vicki wondered.

“Come to bed.” Henry stood and held out his hand. “I will stay until dawn.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Mississauga Hospital**

**Friday, December 14, 2007**

Mike Celluci knocked on the hospital room door before entering. He stood back from Ms. Arnaud and her mother holding out his badge. Although a female officer did the initial questioning and reported no indication of sexual assault, a fear of men was still a possibility. While Lewis’ murder proved there were exceptions, it was still likely that Charlotte’s attacker was male.

“I’m Detective Celluci. I need to ask a few questions.” He replaced his badge and retrieved a notebook from his inner jacket pocket.

Mrs. Arnaud nodded, gripping her daughter’s hand. “She doesn’t remember anything.”

An unfortunate side-effect of GHB and one of the reasons it was an effective date rape drug. “I need to ask.” It could help explain why she was abducted and left to freeze to death.

“It’s okay,” Charlotte said quietly.

He focused on her. “Is there anyone you can think of that would want to hurt you?”

“No.”

“What’s the last thing you remember clearly?”

Charlotte looked uncertain. “The coffee shop. I was with Logan.”

“Arguing?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I broke up with him because he wants to get married. Not anything bad.”

Mrs. Arnaud’s expression said she had an opinion. The officer that took her and Logan’s statement when they reported Charlotte missing said her mother didn’t approve of the relationship ending. Dodging her mother’s calls was considered at the time. Except the number of people convinced something happened didn’t support it.

“Has anyone shown interest? Or made you uncomfortable?”

“No.” There was something in her expression.

Mike looked at Mrs. Arnaud. “Ma’am, could I speak with your daughter privately? Discussing bad social experiences is sometimes difficult in front of a parent.”

She didn’t like that idea.

“Mom, I’m okay. Go get something to eat.”

Mrs. Arnaud reluctantly moved. She gave Mike a look on the way out.

Expecting she waited outside the door, he approached the bed and lowered his voice. “Is there anything you didn’t want to say in front of your mother?”

“I joined a dating site. It has a phone app for meeting people.”

That offered possibilities, including a family conflict. “Had you met someone?”

“Josh Thompson.”

The name was common and could be coincidental. “You were dating?”

Charlotte hesitated.

“There’s no judgment here. I just need to know about personal relationships. Particularly if there were problems. It’s part of the investigation process.” Crimes against women were often committed by men they knew.

“We had sex.” Pause. “He’s out of town. Vancouver, I think.”

Mike found his cell phone and quickly found a picture of the Thompson connected to Lewis’ murder. “Is this him?” Mike held out the picture.

“Yeah.” She looked and sounded confused. “Why would Josh do this?”

“I don’t think he did.” It implicated his involvement in two deaths and disrupted his solid alibi. “Do you know a Sophia Lewis or Kevin Johnson?”

“Josh has a roommate name Kevin.”

Mike nodded. “Have you met a nurse recently? A woman.” Pause. “Not related to your care.”

“Last night. A nurse came in after midnight. Acting weird. She told me a reporter called asking questions about my injuries.” Charlotte shook her head. “The media doesn’t care when we’re attacked.”

“The police do.”

After a few more questions, Mike left her hospital room. Olivia’s behavior stuck in his mind. Sophia Lewis’s murder, Charlotte’s abduction and what happened with Vicki suggested a solid understanding of forensics or investigative procedure. Olivia’s actions didn’t. It was possible her need to involve herself in the investigation overrode common sense. But the reported stalking fit the erratic behavior not the perfect crime scenes.

Was more than one woman involved? He wondered, walking down the hall.

His cell phone rang, distracting him. “Celluci.”

“Mike.” There was something in Kate’s voice. “How many rapes do you think Richardson’s good for?”

It took him a moment to remember the guy Henry identified at the Goth club. “I don’t know. Several.”

“He’s offering information about the cemetery thefts.”

Which somehow connected to Lewis’s murder. “He might be involved.” Mike remembered the drugs the man had when he was arrested. “Was he carrying GHB?”

“Yeah.”

Mike explained his theory that Arnaud was staged to make Thompson look guilty.

“Vancouver PD confirmed he checked into his hotel and has CCTV footage of him.”

Mike nodded. “We need to look for connections between Richardson and the witnesses and suspects in the Lewis case.”

“Will you tell Crowley I’m helping with the case?”

“Yeah.” Not that his word meant much. If Kate was asking, her situation was worse than he thought.

**Vicki’s New Apartment**

Vicki Nelson’s cell phone rang on the nightstand and woke her. She reached for it with the wrong hand and grimaced, but picked up anyway. With her nearsightedness, she could at least check the screen. But she didn’t recognize the number.

“Nelson.”

“Morning.” It took a moment to place Nicholas’ voice. “I am at the office.”

She hadn’t expected him to show up again. “I don’t know when I’ll be there.” Yesterday was because Henry didn’t like company while he slept. Or essentially died.

“Have you been here this morning?” Something about his tone made her wonder.

“No.”

“The door is unlocked.”

Vicki groaned. “Does anything looked damaged?” Not that there was much left to break.

Footsteps sounded over the phone. “No.” Nicholas sounded like he was looking at something strange. “Did you leave flowers in your office?”

She wondered if Henry had. Then remembered he didn’t want her going into the office today. “Don’t touch anything.” Vicki needed to see it for herself. Breaking into her office and leaving flowers sounded like a stalker. She needed to check her apartment as well.

After the call, she wondered if Nicholas was involved. She saw no problems while they were in the office. Other than he showed up and essentially hired himself. Not that she could pay him. With no cases, she was going to have trouble paying her rent. With the break-ins it wouldn’t take much to convince her landlords to break her leases.

The only silver lining in the entire situation.


	12. Chapter 12

**Vicki’s Office**

Vicki Nelson immediately had second thoughts about asking Coreen to drive her. The aura ability affected her eye sight. Vicki unfortunately understood. But it worked out. Apparently, if Coreen focused on a task she didn’t see the auras. An important detail for coping with the ability.

Coreen reluctantly entered the building. Working there led to an unthinkable trauma. “You replaced me?” She asked quietly as the elevator doors opened.

“No.” Vicki explained what she could as they went upstairs.

Coreen hesitated, eying the hallway.

“If Nicholas wanted to hurt me, he could have done it yesterday.” Vicki held the doors and motioned toward the hallway.

It was one of many mysteries they were dealing with. Although she wondered if he staged the break-in and the flowers to get her back to the office. She doubted his reasoning for approaching her. The ghost recommendation was impossible to prove and led her to the anthropologist. But she didn’t think he was dangerous. As they approached the office door, she wondered why.

The door opened as Vicki reached for it. Nicholas stepped back. She entered first followed by Coreen shuffling behind her. The new furnishings reminded her again that she didn’t know his motivations.

“The answering machine is full.”

“We can’t accept cases.” Vicki didn’t want to admit she was still having problems. But riding in the elevator required holding onto the bar. She was in no condition to investigate.

“What are you?” Coreen sounded awed.

Vicki turned and saw the younger woman staring at Nicholas. While he was gorgeous, she suspected Coreen was fixated on his aura.

He wasn’t amused. “A long story.”

One he needed to tell, but under different circumstances. “What’s on the machine?”

“Reporters asking why the police department is treating you badly. Former clients asking if you’re okay. A few tips about what happened to you or the other women found by the Creek.”

That didn’t sound good. If the suspension agreement was leaked it could turn into a media circus. Then she remembered the issues with the police not taking the break-ins seriously. Mike wasn’t telling her everything.

“One mentioned a problem with your Medicare files.”

Vicki vaguely recalled a problem with admitting her. She was confused and medicated for pain at the time. “I better listen to the messages.”

Coreen followed into the office. They sat on opposite sides of the desk. It almost felt normal. But after what they had been through it was unlikely they would find normal again.

Vicki started the answering machine while Coreen grabbed a notebook. At first, it looked like she was taking notes. Except nothing required it. When it finished playing, she handed it over.

The first page said, “Nicholas is beautiful with a white and gold aura and no sins. Everyone has sins.”

Vicki flipped the page over trying to process what that meant. He was the angel. She had some kind of vision of him standing on Etobicoke Creek in the Park and later the dream she couldn’t remember that nearly caused a heart attack. Then there was the psychic visions Henry found in the old book. What are you? She wondered.

With no way of answering the important question, she focused on information from the machine. Several messages were definitely flakes. But a few offered similar details. It would be simple enough to confirm.

She opened a desk drawer and removed a map of Toronto. Then unfolded it on the desk. “Check for articles associated with the accident claims.” Enough time had passed, they should be documented.

Coreen picked up her laptop and sat back with it.

Vicki checked the locations. Each was east of Etobicoke Creek. All wooded areas. It didn’t prove anything. The information was easily found on a map. But she couldn’t think of any reason several people would intentionally give her inaccurate information.

“Seven car accidents minutes apart. Starting on Lakeshore Road and ending on Eglinton Avenue. All caused by seemingly natural causes. Seizures, heart attacks.” Coreen hesitated. “Two people jumped off bridges.”

What was happening? The only idea Vicki had involved Astaroth. It reminded her of what Henry said happened previous times demons were on Earth. Astaroth could have directly or indirectly affected the cult or an off-shoot of it. Olivia couldn’t be an original cult member, she was born after the leader died.

Vicki looked at the open door to the reception area. If Nicholas was the being from her dream, he was somehow connected to what was happening. The conversation couldn’t wait. She stood and crossed the office. He looked up from his laptop as she stopped in the doorway.

“I do not know.”

The simple answer was he listened to the messages and overheard their conversation. But she had an odd feeling there was more to it. “Why are you really here?”

“Repaying a debt.”

“Involving Pacha Kamaq?”

It was obviously something Nicholas didn’t want to discuss. “Yes.”

Vicki crossed her arms. If true, and she believed him, that meant at least some of the psychic information was accurate. “Why am I dreaming about you?”

That confused him. “I have no idea.”

“A dream nearly caused a heart attack.” Similar to the car accidents, Vicki realized. “What’s your connection to Etobicoke Creek?”

“Why?”

Vicki explained the car accidents and what she knew about the murders, abduction and cemetery thefts. “The woman suspected of killing Sophie Lewis is obsessed with me.” It reminded Vicki of Colin and his stalker. That might explain the flowers.

“Can you get me a list of what’s missing from the cemeteries?”

Vicki could unfortunately picture the conversation with Mike. “Possibly. Why?”

“My ship contained artifacts when it sank in Lake Ontario. A few involved funeral rites.”

She remembered the antique shop Colin worked at. “I know where we need to look.”

**Morgue**

Mike Celluci entered Rajani’s pathology lab. As a homicide detective, he dealt with violent death on a daily basis. At some point, he was desensitized. While it was a necessary part of his job, he wondered at times what it said about him.

“Vicki’s not with you?” Rajani looked up from her computer.

Mike had no idea how to explain the problem with the department. “Not today.

“This is more her area of expertise,” the pathologist explained.

Not surprising. He suspected the Lewis and related cases had supernatural motivations. “What did you want to show me?”

Rajani picked up a manila folder before standing and walking over to him. “Two jumpers and two accident victims. I autopsied the jumpers first.”

Mike remembered the accident scene he saw that morning was caused by a heart attack. “How are they unusual?”

“The jumpers were dead before they hit the ice. Based on their expressions, they were terrified. Neither had a history of heart or psychological problems.” She handed him the folder. “Tox screens will take days for some. Weeks for others.”

“Any indication of drugs?”

“Poison. Similar to Sophia Lewis and Kevin Johnson.”

Mike didn’t remember seeing that in Johnson’s file. “Does the detective investigating his death as a mugging know that?”

Rajani nodded. “It was re-classified a homicide.” Pause. “There is no indication how the poison was administered.”

“How did you find the poison?”

“I requested a tox screen because there was no obvious cause of death.”


	13. Chapter 13

**History’s Treasures**

Vicki Nelson had reservations about going with Nicholas. Coreen couldn’t handle staying in the office. She packed up her laptop and left. Calling Mike wasn’t an option; he would have gone without her. Henry wouldn’t be awake for hours. Going alone was a bad idea even if she didn’t want to admit it.

Nicholas held the door open. Then followed her inside. He looked around the room, unimpressed by business. He was resistant to answering questions on the ride over. That left observing him and hoping she had a frame of reference. What she’d seen so far indicated he wasn’t afraid of what they might find. If anything, Nicholas seemed inconvenienced.

“Cursed objects,” Nicholas concluded quietly.

Can you sense them? Vicki wondered. “Anything familiar?”

Distracted, he walked over to a large Tiger’s Eye sphere in the center of a table display. Gold light danced over the surface as he approached making him smile.

“What is it?”

Footsteps sounded toward the front of the store. Vicki turned as Colin stepped through a curtain behind the counter.

“A Delphic scrying stone.” Nicholas touched it and it glowed.

Colin approached slowly, nervous. “That’s dangerous.”

“Having it in this room is dangerous.” Nicholas turned, looking at Colin. “The stone interacts badly with dark magic.”

That made him more uneasy. “It stabilizes the energy.”

“No.” Nicholas moved his hand, watching the light shift around the sphere. “It absorbs conflicting energy. Any stability is an unintended side-effect.”

Colin hesitated. “Who are you?”

“A Delphic Oracle.” Nicholas’ eyes glowed gold. “The scrying stone was stolen from the Library of Alexandria before the fool burned it.” His tone said he took the theft and destruction personally.

Hoping to defuse the situation, Vicki set a hand on Nicholas’ arm. Energy, like static electricity, caused the hairs on her arm to stand up. “We need to focus on the funeral artifacts.” Ancient history could wait.

Colin paled.

“What’s happening with Etobicoke Creek?” Vicki asked.

Colin hesitated.

Nicholas reached for the sphere, causing it to glow again. Anger flashed across his face a moment later. “Who summoned a Naiad?!”

That sounded vaguely familiar, Vicki thought. She read a lot about Greek mythology while investigating Elena. Naiads were supernatural beings associated with water. Fresh water, maybe.

“Audra. She thought she could trade artifacts for a healing spring.” Colin shook his head. “There’s a possessed priest.” His tone said he had trouble dealing with that idea. “He contaminated his congregation and they’re spreading madness.”

Astaroth. “What does it have to do with me?” Vicki suspected she already knew.

“The Naiad said you can stop him. Before she got angry.” Colin closed his eyes. “Olivia, Audra’s daughter, attempted an appeasement ritual. After Audra was killed by the priest. It went wrong. Olivia’s crazy. Sophie and Kevin…” He was having trouble coping. “Are dead.

That would have sounded crazy once. “What ritual?”

“I don’t know.”

The energy around Nicholas changed as he closed his eyes. The glowing sphere brightened and the light flowed up his arm. When Vickie tried to move, she felt a strong jolt of electricity. She dropped to her knees. The symbols on her wrists glowed as her vision wavered.

**Dreamscape**

Vicki found herself standing in Curtis park on the edge of Etobicoke Creek wearing a historical Greek dress. Rather than winter, it was Spring. The water shifted in front of her, taking a woman’s shape. Water flowed over her like a fountain.

“Are you the Naiad?”

The Creak vibrated. “Yes.”

“Why are people dying?”

A low rumble of rushing water vibrated the air. “Temple corruption.” It roared and the vision shook.

“Where?”

“The trail to Britannia…”

**History’s Treasures**

Buzzing filled Vicki’s ears as she opened her eyes. Everything tingled. Nicholas knelt on one knee next to her, glowing with a golden aura. The angel from her dreams. Except he didn’t cause them. She had no idea how she knew that.

“What’s wrong with me?” Vicki asked, her voice distorted.

“The Incan priest and the demon disrupted balance.” His voice seemed to reach through the background noise.

“Meaning?”

“In sacrificing your life energy to defeat Pacha Kamaq, you proved yourself worthy of the power he abused.” Nicholas helped her sit up.

Vicki wondered if she was still dreaming. “I’m becoming an Incan priest?”

Nicholas laughed. “A conduit for divine power. To defeat the evil that marked you.”

A wave of dizziness blurred her vision as the door opened behind her. Footsteps echoed as the memory of her vision returned. It mingled with the sights and sounds of spring. She barely registered reaching for Nicholas as he stood.

“What happened?”

“Mike.” Vicki did not look forward to explaining any of it to him. He wasn’t inclined to believe anything until he experienced it. Even then he had doubts. “Nicholas.” She held out her hand to him, resigned to needing help to stand. To make it worse, he kept an arm around her waist.

“New friend?” Mike’s question sounded more like an accusation.

Nicholas obviously didn’t appreciate the implication. “Victoria is at risk of passing out, detective.”

“Enough.” The situation was bad enough without unfounded jealousy. Vicki focused on Mike. “Why are you here?”

“The case is complicated.” Their euphemism for supernatural.

She nodded. “This room is full of complicated.”

Nicholas reached over and ran his free hand over the sphere. It glowed. “The detective wants to discuss media coverage. Internal Affairs is investigating whether someone interfered with the Park and the breaking and entering investigations.”

Not surprising, unfortunately. Not after everything. “Crowly’s worried about what I’ll say?” After barring you from talking to me.

Mike looked resigned. “Not here.”

“He can drive you home.” Nicholas picked up the sphere. “The child of Nyx would not appreciate my presence in his sanctum.” He started toward the door encouraging Vicki to walk.

“Are you paying for that?” Mike asked, unsure of what was happening.

More importantly, Vicki thought, “What happens to the artifacts when you remove it?”

“The consequences of stupidity.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Vicki’s New Apartment**

Mike Celluci held the door and watched Vicki walk slowly passed. For whatever reason, she wouldn’t accept his help. He knew better then to ask. If the conversation in the car was any indication, the conflict with the police department damaged more than their chances at a relationship.

“What aren’t you telling me?” He suspected he didn’t want to know.

She walked toward the kitchen. “Nothing you would believe.” Her tone said she had trouble believing it.

“How is Nicholas involved?”

“If he’s telling the truth, he’s a priest of Apollo.” Vicki leaned on the counter to keep her balance. Then reached for a jar of instant coffee.

Mike wondered stopped a few from her. “If he’s not?”

“I don’t know.” From her expression and general body language, she knew something.

“Vicki…”

She set a mug on the counter too hard. “I am either having psychic visions or he’s making me hallucinate.”

“What’s your gut say?”

“That he’s exactly what he says he is.” She closed her eyes and lowered her head.

It took Mike a moment to realize she was crying. He couldn’t remember seeing her cry before. “Talk to me.”

“I caused this.” Vicki took a moment before wiping her eyes. “Saving Henry from the Incan priest. It likely caused what happened to Coreen. Allowed a demon free.” She opened her eyes, staring at the counter. “I justify it. Telling myself I chose the lesser of two evils.”

“We can only do what we think is right.”

“I don’t know what that is anymore.” Vicki reached for the coffee again. “What’s the issue with the department?”

Mike wished he knew. “Someone is leaking information.” He hesitated. “Kate filed a report that you’re psychologically unstable and compromised my ability to investigate.” He doubted it was why she was transferred. “It’s part of the reason your credibility was questioned.”

“Part?” She placed mug in the microwave.

“An anonymous tip. Or more than one.” He suspected the reason it was believed was above his pay grade.

“What’s the incentive to ignore the reporters?”

You would ask that. “Officially? You have no problem with the department.”

“Unofficially, it keeps you from being suspended?”

Mike doubted it. That would add to the media problems. “It wasn’t mentioned.”

A knock interrupted.

Vicki Nelson knew she was losing it. Crying, nevertheless in front of Mike, was out of character. The timing couldn’t be worse. The situation involving the Creek needed to be dealt with before more people died. The only clue she had on how to fix it sounded like something out of a historical fantasy novel.

“The trail to Britannia.” 

Coreen sat across the table with her laptop. She typed and took notes. “Context?”

“A corrupted temple.” Vicki had no idea. “It’s apparently how Astaroth attacked the Naiad.”

“Local?”

Her vision blurred again. “I guess.”

Coreen turned her laptop around. “Etobicoke Trail crosses Britannia Road near the airport.”

Resigned, Vicki admitted the problem with her sight. “I can’t see it.”

“Google Maps shows a clearing.” Coreen turned the laptop back. “Maybe it’s a small shrine.”

That made as much sense as anything else. “How does the power of an Incan priest apply to Greek mythology?”

Answering that took longer. Vicki was failing to read a menu for her favorite Chinese restaurant and resigned to being unable to pour coffee when Coreen entered the kitchen. Admitting weakness had to be some part of the mythic journey, Vicki concluded.

“You’ll have to order.” She held out the menu.

“I think I found something.”

Vicki leaned on the counter as her blurred vision made her dizzy. “How bad?”

“The Incans believed the world was created at a lake. Naiad myths involve founding cities. Inti the Incan Sun god had an area near the lake where the world was created. Oracles, psychics or maybe temples associated with Apollo, could be near springs.” Pause. “Winter solstice was very important to the Incans. They celebrated for days.” Pause. “The Feast of Poseidon started on December 17 and celebrated sex.”

Vicki could picture discussing that to Henry. “What are you thinking?”

“Apollo was the god of many things including healing. The Creek was used intending to heal. Possibly with the solstice to power it.” Coreen hesitated. “The psychic vision mentioned sacrificing a child. The Incans sacrificed children during the festival for community well-being.”

Not happening. “Anything on purifying temples?”

“Cleansing rituals.” She listed several possibilities.

Vicki leaned on the counter as the dizziness made her nauseous. “I need to lay down.”

After waking, and dressing for the night, Henry Fitzroy went to check on Vicki. He hoped she was resting although he expected she spent the day investigating. Whether she accepted cases or not, she couldn’t switch it off. He found Coreen at the small table near the kitchen instead.

She blurted, “Something’s wrong with Vicki.”

“Tell me.”

After listening, he wondered what Vicki hadn’t shared. The dizziness and nausea especially worried him. He had a theory and hoped he was wrong. Unsure how to discuss it with Vicki, he started with a different suspicion. He called Mike and asked him to check on her medical records.

“How did you know?” Mike asked, calling back an hour later.

“It’s easier to hide impossible changes to her health. The anonymous tips and information leaks offers a plausible explanation why her medical records were destroyed.”

“Something healed her eyes?”

“Possibly.” Henry suspected something else. “I need to talk to Vicki.” Before Mike asked better questions.

Easier said then done. Henry hesitated outside the bedroom doors. After a few minutes, he entered. He wanted to be wrong. But healing a life force corrupted by dark magic and vampire blood would take a miracle. Or something equally powerful.

“I needed a nap.”

Henry sat on the edge of the bed. “Coreen said you’re sick.”

“Long day.”

“Dizzy, nauseous, tender breasts.” He might have considered it two nights earlier when they were in bed if he wasn’t confident she hadn’t had sex in months.

“What?”

Henry pulled the bedding down slowly and carefully lifted her shirt. Then leaned in to listen to her abdomen. He definitely heard a heart beat. But it wasn’t human.

“What exactly did Nicholas say about the Incan priest’s power?” Henry asked as he sat back.


	15. Chapter 15

**History’s Treasures; Toronto, Canada**

Mike Celluci watched the fire department futilely battling the blaze. Officially, an arsonist used a unique accellerant. He couldn’t help but remember what Vicki asked when they were in the antique store. Removing the glowing ball destabilized something.

Knock. Mike turned and saw Colin Harris looking in the passenger window. The young man was a witness to the varied cases connected to Lewis’s murder. He somehow avoided a police APB. Mike pressed the button and the door unlocked with click. Colin opened it, climbed in and closed it quickly. He slouched in the seat not wanting to be seen.

“What happened?”

“A chain reaction.” Colin sounded overwhelmed. “Nicholas had to know.”

“You were in the store.” Is that why Vicki was there? Mike wondered.

Colin nodded. “Those scrying stones were supposed to be dormant. It recognized him. That shouldn’t be possible.” He shook his head. “He’s scary old.”

“Vampire?”

“Not sanguine. They can’t walk in daylight. Or use artifacts associated with the sun.”

How do you know? “How are you involved in Sophie Lewis’s murder?”

“Kevin came into the store claiming he was researching a script. He wrote one for cover.” Colin shook his head. “It was bad enough to be a film student horror movie.” He sighed. “We were dating before he asked the wrong question. He didn’t tell me the truth because I wouldn’t have believed him.” Pause. “A group of crazy New Agers are trying to save the world. They’re caught in a conflict among demi gods. Unless they’re right about Ms. Nelson, we’re all screwed.” He didn’t sound confident.

“What happened in Curtis Park?”

“A Hail Mary.” Colin hesitated. “Whatever healed her wasn’t the Naiad.”

**Dreamscape**

A world in shades of gray formed around Vicki Nelson. She found herself standing on Etobicoke Creek near Lake Ontario, the partially frozen water beneath her feet. Mist receded from both shores, revealing a glowing area in the Dog Park between the Creek and Island Road. Somehow she knew there was a body there.

A baby’s cries distracting her and she started walking. A symbol glowed, scorched in the Trail as she walked under Lakeshore Boulevard bridge. It felt familiar somehow, but she didn’t recognize it.

“What are you trying to tell me?”

Sophie Lewis and Charlotte Arnaud were not the first, she thought as another grave glowed in Breen Park near the railroad bridge.

Symbols covered the underside of it. Vicki stopped, resisting the pull to continue. She knew she’d seen them before she made detective. A basement door came to mind, but she couldn’t place it. Was it more lost time?

The water rippled, nudging her forward.

New memories surfaced as she neared the Golf Club. As a rookie she assisted with securing a crime scene. A glowing, transparent woman stepped out of the trees and watched Vicki walk passed. According to the victim’s husband, she disappeared while her husband was on a business trip to Vancouver. She was found dead near the Creek. Her husband and his attorney convinced investigators that she was having an affair. Vicki didn’t believe it, but there was nothing she could do. No charges were ever brought.

Two similar cases flashed through her mind like a malfunctioning projector as she entered Valley Park. The second one involved a missing child. She couldn’t let that one go. The girl’s father was accused of staging the abduction. But Vicki saw something in his eyes. After the missing person case, she couldn’t let it. Instead, she solved it off books and quietly presented it to the detective who got credit.

“Are these cases connected?”

A boy stood near the water’s edge in Orchard Heights Park. He seemed familiar. As as a uniformed officer and then a detective, she interacted with so many people. Vicki remembered the victims she interacted with directly or investigated their murders. She apologized for forgetting as she passed him.

“What are you trying to tell me?” Vicki demanded as a glow on the Queen Elizabeth Way off West Mall off ramp caught her attention. An indistinct form jumped off the bridge and disappeared before hitting the ice.

It reminded her of the two recent suicides. “Tell me how to stop it!”

A form similar to the Naiad formed from the ice between the bridges. It took a moment to realize she was looking at herself. A light glowed from the figure’s abdomen. She looked down and she was glowing in the same location. The brightness increased as the cries amplified. A whining came from the figure and the ice cracked, breaking as the living statute created by Medusa did.

The light continued until it was blinding. Then burst and receded. She found herself farther up the Creek. Vicki looked around, trying to place the location. The damaged trees showed an intersection. The Queensway and West Mall, she realized. She was near where Charlotte Arnaud was found. The trees to her left shook. Then disappeared, revealing a glowing mound.

Another body? How many were buried along the Creek? Why? “I don’t understand!”

“The Trail to Britannia…” The Naiad’s words echoed.

Vicki wondered what that meant. Two possibilities came to mind. The first was that her connection to what was happening was set in motion a long time ago. The second was the most recent deaths along the Creek weren’t the first. Both could be true, she realized.

“How do I stop it?”

The glowing mound opened, creating a wavering image like a movie screen. An artesian well appeared surrounded by smooth stones with symbols burned onto them. Vicki knelt next to it, cradling her arms like she held a baby. Glowing energy flowed from her abdomen into her arms…

**Vicki’s New Apartment**

Vicki woke startled, her heart racing. The sound of a screaming baby echoed through her mind. She absently set a hand on her abdomen.

Coreen sat on the edge of the bed. “You were having a nightmare.” She sounded worried. “I had to shake you.”

“Henry…”

“Went to check Etobicoke Trail near Britannia Road.” Her concern increased. “You don’t remember?”

Vaguely. It was coming back to her.

Coreen found her phone while she asked, “What did you see?”

“Something wants me to sacrifice the baby at the Naiad’s shrine.” Human or not, Vicki knew she couldn’t do it.

**Etobicoke Creek Trail near Britannia Road**

Henry Fitzroy parked on the side of the road. He had doubts and a growing list of questions. Corrupting a place of power and causing chaos was within the realm of possibility. Except if Astaroth contaminated a congregation, there would be a lot worse happening. Unless the group that summoned the Naiad were actively disrupting it.

He climbed out of his car and looked around. It was an open area with few trees. With the airport on other side of the road and an industrial area beyond the Creek, it wasn’t the most scenic. Walking down the Trail toward the water, he saw nothing that looked like a temple or shrine or any reason someone would build one there.

Then he heard water bubbling. It sounded like an artesian well. Henry followed the sound into a group trees next to a bend in the river and found a small pool surrounded by smooth stones. Crouching near it, he used his cell phone as a flash light and illuminated it. Each one had a different symbol seemingly burned into it.

The energy was definitely but wrong. How did you corrupt it? Henry wondered, shining his light around. Melted candle wax, incense and partially burnt herbs said someone tried a ritual. Then he noticed an artifact in the water.

Henry moved back quickly. The temple wasn’t corrupted. The power was redirected. No wonder the Naiad was angry. Someone summoned her and drained her power. Why couldn’t you break free?

How was the Incan priest involved? When they investigated him initially, they focused on stopping him. The dreams where Pacha Kamaq exposed Henry to sunlight reminded him of what was happening with Vicki. If she was right about Nicholas, and she was a good judge of character, that meant someone else manipulated them. Someone wanted him free. Or the baby born.

Walking back to the car, he reviewed the series of events that led to the current situation. A man figured out how to summon a demon. One Henry was familiar with and knew how to stop. Something brought an Inquisitor addicted to vampire blood. Medusa established a nightclub. An Incan priest arrived. Many of the supernatural problems seemed to target him or Vicki. Did something cause it? More importantly, what did it accomplish?

He hoped it wasn’t connected. After more then four-hundred-and-seventy years, he knew bad things happened without supernatural manipulation.


	16. Chapter 16

**Etobicoke Creek**

Henry Fitzroy parked on Forty Second Street and walked toward Etobicoke Creek. The frozen ground crunched underfoot, releasing an odd energy in small amounts on contact. He suspected it permeated the Creek water.

“What am I looking for?” Henry said into his cell phone.

“I don’t know.” Vicki described what she saw in the dream.

He reached the snow covered Trail and looked around. Nothing glowed. The closest to unusual was a group of ravens huddled under Lakeshore bridge. That brought Poe’s writing to mind as he walked toward them. “Quoth the raven nevermore.” He looked up at them as he passed them. The birds barely reacted. The thought of omens gave him a chill that increased as he approached the railroad bridge.

“Henry?” Vicki sounded worried.

“No symbols.” Something at the water’s edge caught his attention. He crouched down looking at partially submerged rocks. A scorched symbol glowed red briefly. “Astaroth,” he concluded as he stood and backed away. “Someone planned this. The river, Naiad, visions.” He suspected Vicki was caught in the middle with more than one entity affecting her dreams.

The question was why. Not only the conflicting motivations. What brought them to Toronto? He suspected it had something to do with him. But Christina was the only one that came to mind. As crazy as she got, there was nothing in it for her. If for some reason she tried arranging his death, it would have been a simpler ploy.

“How old is the angel story with the prediction?” Vicki asked.

Henry wondered that himself as he walked back to his car. “Check the book.” It reminded him of what she said about Nicholas in the antique store.

Soft voices sounded over the phone. Then footsteps.

“Why would anyone. Anything. Do this?” Vicki sounded overwhelmed.

“I don’t know.” Henry wished he knew more about Greek and Incan mythology. Both seemed to be connected. Either some of the old stories were true, like Medusa, or someone believed they were. “Has Nicholas said anything?”

“No. His phone goes directly to voice mail.”

They needed to know more about him. Henry couldn’t remember meeting someone claiming to be a priest of Apollo. The Incan and Inquisitor came to mind. Immortality, or near immortality, came with a cost. Both targeted him to steal his. Whereas Nicholas acted like he owed Vicki a debt.

“Henry?”

“Just thinking.”

The connection sounded different as it was changed to speaker phone.

“The angel book was published in the late 1800s,” Coreen said.

**Vicki’s New Apartment**

Vicki Nelson sat in bed, drinking tea because Coreen wouldn’t give her coffee, wondering what they were missing. For reasons she didn’t understand, she was convinced Nicholas arrived in the late 1800s and whatever was happening started then. She suspected it involved earlier dreams she couldn’t remember.

“What was Etobicoke in the 1800s?”

Coreen sat next to the bed with her laptop balanced on the nightstand. “Farms. First Nation land before that.”

“Greek settlements?” Vicki explained why she chose the time period.

“In Montreal mostly. They started immigrating in the early 1900s.”

That was closer to the Atlantic. “Where was the ship going?” Vicki wondered aloud.

“Detroit, maybe.” Coreen sounded uncertain, focused on the computer. “Chicago? It was big for Greek immigrants starting in the mid 1800s.” Pause. “New York if they got lost.”

Vicki shook her head. There was no way to know. Or even if it mattered. She had doubts about what Nicholas told her about himself. But somehow she knew he wasn’t responsible for what was happening. The certainty worried her. She looked down at her hand on her abdomen and realized where it came from. The baby caused the visions.

“Inti, the Incan god of the sun, helped grow crops.”

Maybe it did involve farm land. “Any similarities between what Apollo and Inti followers believed?”

“Nothing obvious.” Coreen hesitated. “Truth and prophesy are on the list of what Apollo represented.”

Vicki looked up. “What?”

“I’m seeing auras and you’re having visions.”

And the baby?

Coreen typed. “Apollo was associated with healing.” She sounded distracted. “Lakeshore Asylum opened in 1889.” Pause. “It ties in with the cemetery thefts. The psychiatrist buried in the catacombs is related to one of the original doctors and the people buried in the mausoleum.” Pause. “The Necropolis mausoleum is part of old urban legends. The damage in the 1970s was caused by something escaping.” She didn’t sound confident of any of it.

“The cult tried to resurrect it’s leader and something went wrong when they stole the wrong body.” Vicki doubted the possibility was crazier than anything else. They dealt with mummies, ghosts and zombies. She realized, “Carmichael resurrected fighters using Egyptian funeral and resurrection rites. The same museum he was connected to imported an Incan mummy.” That turned out to be a priest capable of attacking Henry in dreams.

Coreen paled.

“What if someone combined dark magic from different cultures? Greek, Egyptian, Incan.” Others. It reminded her of the man convinced he could control the demon he summoned. “Nicholas said I was a divine conduit,” for Pacha Kamaq’s power, “To defeat the evil that marked me.”

“The baby is capable of defeating Astaroth?”

Vicki shared the concern. “I don’t know.” It made her wonder if she was trading one monster for another.

Crying echoed through her thoughts making her wonder if the baby reacted to the thought.


	17. Chapter 17

**Henry’s Apartment Building**

Halfway home, Mike Celluci had a strange, urgent need to talk to Vicki. During the drive, he considered the excuses if he had to justify it to the department. He settled on Colin and the antique store. The fire was indirectly connected to his case and she might have information. It sounded weak, he concluded, finding the nearest parking space. Walking toward the building, he realized he needed an explanation for her also. Except he didn’t have one.

Mike looked at his cell phone. He could give her the same excuse he intended for the department. But she would see through it. He had no idea what to tell her. Then he thought about calling Coreen to see how Vicki was doing.

A car door shut and seemed to echo. It grabbed his attention for some reason. He looked over and saw a man wearing a hoodie. The man had something heavy, like a gun, in his pocket. Mike knew the hoodie man was after Vicki. Figuring out how he knew that had to wait.

Mike hurried toward the entrance. Ideally, he could end the situation in the entryway. When he heard the gun shot, he knew it wouldn’t be that simple. He stopped and looked through the glass doors. There was blood splattered on the wall behind the doorman’s desk. But hoodie man wasn’t visible.

With his gun drawn, he entered the building slowly. Seeing and hearing nothing, he stopped at the desk. The desk man was moving. Mike used the land line to dial 999. What was no more than a matter of seconds felt like an eternity. He quickly identified himself to the operator and described the situation.

“The gunman may have access keys.” Hoodie man hadn’t used the elevator.

“Wait for back up.” That was procedure.

But Mike couldn’t. Unless Henry was home, and Mike doubted it, Vicki and Coreen were defenseless. He hurried for the elevator wishing he could follow the man up the stairs. That required a key, meaning he could only assume who hoodie man’s target was.

Vicki Nelson heard a gun shot downstairs and knew. It was a safe neighborhood with extensive personal security. Not the kind of place she expected gun crime. Although nowhere was truly safe from violence. Her first thoughts went to a gun, but she couldn’t have fired it even if she had one.

Coreen rushed into the bedroom. She held her cell phone. “I called Henry. His phone goes straight to voice mail.”

From what he said before their call ended, he needed to feed. A reality of his existence she tried not to think about. But it meant he was at a club somewhere. Probably across town. He couldn’t get to them in time. She wondered if the gunman somehow knew that.

“Do we have cleaning supplies?” Vicki swung her legs over the edge of the bed, trying not to grimace.

That took Coreen a moment to understand. “In the bathroom.”

“Turn the lights off. Quickly.” Vicki stood, wondering if she could walk to the bathroom without help. Between the injuries and the baby, there wasn’t a lot she could do.

Which included getting under the sink to see what options they had. Chemicals required getting close. Not ideal with a gunman. But their only other option was to hide and hope they weren’t found. As a police officer, she saw the end result of that scenario too many times.

Sirens sounded in the distance. Maybe they could buy themselves some time.

“Maybe…” Coreen was interrupted by metal slamming wood.

It was definitely about them. Vicki could only imagine the person was hitting a door with something. Except it wasn’t their door. It was down the hall. The person, or people, thought they were in Henry’s apartment. Suggesting they had partial or old information.

“Are all the lights out?” They might leave if they didn’t know where to look.

Coreen nodded.

The movement blurred as the dim lightening in the bathroom brightened. Vicki tried to speak, but nothing happened. She reached for the counter. Then vaguely felt hands grab her. Indistinct whispers surrounded her and everything went black.

Mike Celluci looked around the hallway corner at Henry’s apartment door. Hoodie man held a fire extinguisher and used it against the lock. Thud. Glowing symbols appeared on the door. The man set the extinguisher down and removed something from his pocket. He chanted and the symbols changed colors.

A low growl surprised hoodie man. He backed away as the symbols shifted again glowing bright red. Halfway down the hall, he stopped and removed something else from his pocket. As he chanted again, the growling increased with symbols appearing on the floor near him.

Mike held his gun and waited as hoodie man backed toward him. “Police. Put your hands on your head.”

Hoodie man gripped someone in his hand as he reached for his gun. The growl became a roar and he fell back with a look of horror.

“Hands on your head,” Mike repeated, pointing his gun at hoodie man.

Everything from there, except explaining it to Crowley, went smoothly. The ambulance and officers came and went. With no damage to the door, it appeared Mike stopped hoodie man before he tried to break it. He went with that. No one would believe what actually happened anyway.

Coreen opened the door as Mike approached. They had already exchanged texts and a phone call. Officially, he needed to take statements. Her tone worried him. She looked paler than usually as she quickly closed the door behind him.

“You need to sit down.”

“Vicki’s having seizures. I think it’s the baby.” Tears slid down Coreen cheeks.

“What baby?”

Coreen quickly summarized what she knew of Vicki’s pregnancy and her increasing health problems. “She collapsed in the bathroom. The seizures started as I tried to get her back to bed.”

Mike wondered when any of it became a possibility. “Was she affected by Henry’s magic security system?”

“What?” Coreen shook her head. “Henry doesn’t use magic...”

Who did that leave? “Nicholas?”

She looked toward the bedroom. “The baby…”


	18. Chapter 18

**Mississauga Hospital**

**Saturday, December 15, 2007**

Vicki Nelson found herself admitted to the hospital for the second time in a week. Her Medicare records were missing again. The hospital couldn’t find her files from her last admission. With nothing to work with, the doctor admitted her for observation. With the ongoing security concerns, the hospital gave Coreen an exception to visiting hours.

“Mike arranged for security.” Coreen shut the door to the private room. “I’m the only guest allowed.” She walked over to the window holding a bottle of water. “I told Henry I would open the window.”

“It shouldn’t open.”

It did. “The lock’s broken.” Coreen held her cell phone against the window.

Not the best security. But how many people could enter through the windows. “Did he arrange the room?” Vicki wondered.

“I don’t know.” Coreen moved away from the window. “Henry said he talked to security.”

Moments later he entered through the window. “The police are expecting another attempt.” He closed it.

Vicki knew she shouldn’t be impressed. She’d seen him do it before. “Did you talk to Mike?”

Henry sat on the edge of the bed. “Officially. It’s connected to what happened in Curtis Park.” He set a hand on hers. “I should have been there.”

“You couldn’t have known it would happen.” That summed up several problems at once. They couldn’t anticipate problems because they hadn’t figured out what they were dealing with. Vicki continued before he commented. “Did Mike say anything about the gunman?”

“He thinks it’s connected to the antique store and Colin Harris.” Henry sounded frustrated.

“It burned,” Coreen said from across the room.

Was the gunman retaliation? For who? He came prepared for magic. He could have known Henry wasn’t there. Nicholas said in the store he wouldn’t enter the building because of Henry. The gunmen either didn’t know about the baby or didn’t know the baby was actively affecting her and her surroundings.

“We need to figure out when this started,” Vicki said. “Was it the guy summoning a demon? Was targeting us.” Any of them. “Coincidental?”

Coreen added quietly, “My boyfriend’s death brought us together.”

Vicki nodded. “If someone caused any of it. Why? How?” Then she remembered what Nicholas took from the shop. With it destroyed they had no obvious way to trace the scrying stone. “Who benefits?” Especially if it was started when she was convinced he arrived in Canada.

“The author of the angel book.”

Vicki and Henry turned, looking at Coreen.

“He was a patient at Lakeshore Asylum.”

**Police Station**

First thing the next morning, Mike Celluci sat in a conference room with case notes from the crime scene techs and initial witness statements. They had the gunman. CCTV, prints, eventually ballistics. With the exception of the hoodie, he made no effort to conceal his identity.

Without Mike’s timing, which he couldn’t reasonably explain, it’s possible the gunman would have escaped without being identified. Even if they later connected fingerprints, or the gun, there would have been reasonable doubt as to whether he was the man wearing the hoodie.

Despite the fact he had already requested a lawyer, it was a simple case. There would be argument over who his intended target was because he tried breaking into Henry’s apartment instead of Vicki’s. Mike needed to find a connection to the antique store or the Sophie Lewis case.

The door opened and Crowley entered. She looked unhappy as she closed it behind her. “The defense attorney wants you removed from the case.”

Mike reluctantly asked, “Why?”

“She’s arguing you developed an unhealthy relationship with your partner. One that involves her getting pregnant. She says your problems with Kate indicate a pattern of inappropriate behavior.”

“Vicki and I haven’t had sex.” Not much of a defense. Whatever the baby was, he wasn’t the father. Only then did he wonder how the attorney knew about the baby. Vicki didn’t tell the hospital when she was admitted and there was no records from her previous hospitalization. Why would anyone tell the attorney instead of a reporter?

Crowley crossed her arms. “Why were you there that night?”

Mike wished he had a solid answer. “I had a bad feeling. I don’t know. Seeing the fire at the store. Talking to Harris. I went to check on Vicki and Coreen.”

“Did you know Mr. Fitzroy wasn’t home?”

“No.”

“You violated your agreement to avoid suspension.”

Mike nodded. Not that the department could suspend him for anything involving Vicki. Not after the media coverage involving the police not taking her injuries or the break-ins seriously. Especially since his concern was warranted.

“What is your relationship?” Crowley demanded.

“We’re friends.” If that. Mike agreed to stay away from her, effectively ending any chance at a relationship, to keep from being suspended.

“Have you spoken to Vicki this morning?”

“No.” Mike held up his cell phone. “Coreen called, saying the nurse was asking if the police are offering protective custody. I told her who the hospital needed to contact.”

Crowley waited a moment. “Is Vicki able to give a statement?”

“If you ask her.” After everything she went through in the last week, Mike doubted it was a good idea. He couldn’t mentioned the inhumane baby she was carrying that caused her to pass out from it’s magic usage.

“Who’s the baby’s father?”

“Vicki didn’t say anything about a pregnancy.”

Crowley didn’t believe him. “You didn’t blink.”

“I don’t know. It could explain why she collapsed during the attempted break-in.” Pause. “If she’s pregnant. How did the attorney know?”

“The nurse stalking her? The stolen medical records?” Crowley looked frustrated. “Is attacking Vicki connected to what happened to Lewis?”

“Best guess. Lewis and Johnson. Arnaud’s abduction. The cemetery thefts. The antique store arson. If Harris can be believed.” Mike had his doubts. “It’s connected to a cult that broke into an underground crypt.” Catacombs in Toronto sounded insane. “Stole a body. Then threw it off a bridge. More than twenty years ago.”

“The group trying to bring their leader back from the dead?”

**Lakeshore Asylum Cemetery**

It was a bad idea.

Henry Fitzroy parked in a lot across Evans Avenue from the cemetery. He only agreed because Vicki would have talked Coreen into driving. While he suspected the baby would protect them, he wasn’t sure how much more Vicki could endure.

“I can walk.”

Coreen thankfully convinced Vicki to sit in the wheelchair. Henry followed behind as they cross the road toward the gate. It looked more like a park surrounded by hedges and trees between an industrial site on one side and self storage across the road on the other.

“The catacombs are sealed,” Coreen commented as she stopped the chair on the sidewalk.

Henry suspected he knew why. The energy reminded him of the river but was older. It seeped out of the underground in places, shimmering in parts of the light spectrum most couldn’t seem. He set a hand on Vicki’s shoulder and described it to her.

“Something happened in the late 1800s.” Vicki sounded uneasy, gripping his hand. “Nicholas arrived. The asylum was built. The angel book was written.”

Somehow it caused a series of events for more than a hundred years.


	19. Chapter 19

**Police Station**

Mike Celluci sat across from hoodie man. Last night’s memories were vivid. Regardless there was nothing he could have done to prevent the shooting, the guilt was setting in. He wanted answers but was limited to mundane questions.

“Mr. Schuyler, what is your interest in Henry Fitzroy?”

Leo Schuyler sat stone-faced next to his attorney. He said very little since his arrest at the apartment. His fingerprint records tied him to three similar crimes. Montreal, Vancouver and Ontario. The MO connected him to others. On the surface, it suggested a gun-for-hire.

“Are you aware that two women were staying with him?”

That generated a small, nonverbal reaction. It wouldn’t hold up in court, but it answered the question.

“Did you cause Vicki Nelson’s injuries on December 10th? Or break-in and vandalize her office or apartment?”

Mike wondered what Schuyler’s body language meant. He reacted to the injuries but not the break-ins. Although subtle, Mike suspected Schuyler was afraid of something. That didn’t fit with a professional killer. An extremist of some kind made more sense.

“Do you know why Ms. Nelson was found unconscious in Curtis Park?” Mike saw he was getting somewhere and continued. “Was she your intended target at Fitzroy’s apartment?”

Schuyler looked increasingly afraid.

“Photographs of Ms. Nelson were found at a crime scene. Were you stalking her?”

His attorney finally reacted to his distress. “I need a few minutes to confer with my client.”

Mike left the interrogation room wondering what the best approach was. He needed information on not only the mundane crimes but the complicated ones as well. Unless Schuyler decided to talk, comparing the other crimes might give some insight. But it required Coreen’s research skills. Mike doubted she was up for it.

Crowley approached in the hallway. “Why is Vicki at Lakeshore Asylum Cemetery?”

“I don’t know.” Mike suspected she was pursuing the cult connection. Are you having her followed? The department denied the hospital’s request for protective custody.

“Call her. She needs to go back to one of her apartments. Or a hotel. And stay there.”

She wouldn’t agree to that until she had no choice but to lay down or it was time for Henry to sleep.

The door opens and the defense attorney stepped out. “My client would like to make a statement.” She sounded nervous. “In exchange for immediate protective custody outside of Toronto.”

Crowley asked the obvious before Mike could. “Who is he afraid of?”

“Vicki Nelson.”

**Fast-Food Restaurant**

With increasing symptoms, Vicki Nelson reluctantly accepted Henry’s help into the restaurant. Under other circumstances, she would have argued with anyone insisting she sit while they ordered. But something changed after arriving at the cemetery. It scared her. And Coreen. She sat, looking away. Vicki suspected it was her aura.

Before she worked up the nerve to ask, her cell phone rang. She didn’t like how shaky her hands were as she found it. “Mike.” She accepted the call. “Evening.”

“Where are you?” There was something in his voice.

“Ask the undercover officers following me.” Vicki made a point of looking at them as she spoke.

“There’s been a development in the doorman shooting.”

What now? “And.”

“You need to go to an easier-to-secure location.”

Vicki kept her first comment. “Why?”

Faint voices sounded in the background of the call.

“The gunman was after Coreen. He believes she’s under the influence of a demon. After she was drugged that day.” The euphemism for demon possession.

She looked at Henry as he approach with a tray. “Another Mendoza?” The psychotic priest felt justified torturing vampires and stealing their blood to extend his life through dark magic. “Is he connected to the cult?”

“Indirectly.”

Henry set the tray on the table. Not for the first time she was glad he was with her.

“What’s the rest of it?” Vicki had known Mike too long to miss the signs he was holding something back.

The connection changed as if he switched the phone to speaker. “He believes the father of your baby is a priest possessed by a demon.”

How does he know about the baby? “Why?” From the dreams, and what Henry found near the Creek, Vicki suspected someone wanted her to sacrifice the baby to empower Astaroth. If the gunman was telling the truth as he saw it, he wasn’t directly involved in any of it.

Henry obviously overheard the comment. “I will get a bag for this.”

“The symbols on your wrists.”

“Has he received a psyche exam?”

Mike hesitated. “Crowley wants you questioned about the Sophie Lewis case. Your interest in unconventional cases…”

I’m a suspect? “The hospital did a pregnancy because of certain symptoms. Negative result. My phone records will show I was in contact with Colin Harris. As I said. I already made a statement about Olivia.”

“Vicki…”

“The department has not officially made a statement saying my injuries weren’t faked and I didn’t stage the break-ins. No explanation has been given about my missing medical records. I still have reporters calling and asking.” Including contacts she made while still uniform. “Someone is obviously targeting me.” Pause. “If the department wants to question me about tabloid accusations…”

Crowley injected angrily, “A man suspected in a murder-for-hire wants protective custody from you. He’s suspected in at least three homicides,” she emphasized. “Why is he afraid of you?”

Worried, Henry moved around the table and set his hands lightly on Vicki’s shoulders while she replied.

“I have been hospitalized twice in less than a week. I am sitting in a wheelchair with a friend waiting on me because I have trouble walking. The men you have following me can tell you that.” She took a moment to calm herself. “I couldn’t possibly be a threat.” She ended the call. It was demoralizing that her alibi involved being helpless.

Henry kissed the top of her head. “Security has been upgraded at my building.” He added quietly next to her ear, “The police won’t get in without a warrant.”

Vicki set her hand on her abdomen thankful the undercovers couldn’t see it. She could sense the baby and it wasn’t happy. Keeping the police away from her was safest for everyone.


	20. Chapter 20

**Fast-Food Restaurant**

An uneasiness settled over Henry Fitzroy as he stepped out of the restaurant. He intended to warm up the car for Vicki and Coreen. But something told him that was the least of their concerns. The intuition proved accurate when he heard an odd clicking sound like a malfunctioning clock.

He approached his car slowly and crouched down to look at the underside. His vampire aptitude for darkness allowed him to perceive more of the light spectrum than humans. The device under the passenger seat was small, but obvious. There was no doubt who it was intended for.

A gunshot rang out as he stood. He barely dodged. The bullet impacted the wall behind him. He kept low and used a car for cover, wary of the bomb.

Guns were a human weapon. With that in mind, Henry focused on hearing. Simply living made a variety of sounds. Even the quietest sniper couldn’t stop his heartbeat. And it gave him away. Unfortunately, there was more than one person hiding. While confident he could take them, he wasn’t their target.

Reluctantly, he found his cell phone. While he preferred to handle it himself, too many people could get hurt.

“What?” Mike sounded stress.

Henry quickly explained the bomb and sniper. “Vicki is definitely the target.” Sending four people to kill a defenseless woman meant they knew about the baby.

“Any idea who they are?”

“No.” He had an idea who they weren’t. Astaroth wanted the baby. The Naiad had no reason to attack. The cultists wanted to sacrifice Vicki or the baby. “Has to be connected to the man who tried to break into my apartment.” Religious extremists were less likely to care about collateral damage.

“A response team is on the way.”

Henry heard a cell phone buzz. It belonged to one of the four. The man spoke softly, but Henry heard most of what was said. “They have a contact at the police station.” They would act before the team arrived.

Vicki Nelson sat on the floor under the table. If it was simply another gunman, Henry would have dealt with it. She hated not knowing. The undercover officers instructed everyone to get down. They knew something. It suggested Henry called Mike.

“Your aura…” Coreen whispered.

Before Vicki could respond, her vision wavered. It was the same thing that happened in her new apartment. Except more intense. She gripped Coreen’s hand as the seizure started. Except this time, the baby wanted out.

Energy flowed from Vicki. The lights flickered. Then went out.

A sharp pain started in her back and wrapped around her middle. The shaking intensified. She could only imagine she was going into labor. First Aid training did not cover giving birth to inhumane babies somehow channeling power from an insane Incan priest.

Vicki screamed as the baby left her body. It wasn’t physical. As irrational as it sounded, she felt like it was ripping out of her soul. She remembered what she did to her life force to kill the priest. For a moment, she wondered if what remained was leaving her.

The demon symbols on her wrists glowed red and burned before disappearing completely. She couldn’t see, but somehow she knew they were gone.

“Vicki?” Coreen asked after the seizure stopped. She sounded scared.

Weakly, Vicki replied barely whispering, “I gave birth.” She felt empty. But at the same time, she could feel the baby. Except her daughter wasn’t a baby anymore.

Henry Fitzroy turned and watched as a young woman walked through the wall. She looked like a younger version of Vicki and wore an ancient-style Greek dress with a Tiger’s Eye pendent. Her sandals sparked gold on contact with the sidewalk. What little ice remained melted.

A gun shot rang out. Moments later, the bullet exploded inches from the woman.

Like the gunmen at the apartment, the four attackers didn’t know what they were dealing with. They thought she was a demon. Having been near Astaroth more than once, Henry knew she wasn’t. Although he had no more idea what she was then the attackers did. When one mentioned the bomb, he didn’t know what to do.

Do you understand? Henry wondered, motioning toward his car.

Her expression said she sensed something. Then she started glowing like sunlight. It reminded Henry of the Incan priest invading his dreams. But it didn’t affect him. Are you the angel from Vicki’s dreams? Henry wondered. She thought it was Nicholas.

The door opened and Coreen half carried Vicki out. Coreen looked terrified.

“Can you stop them without hurting them?” Vicki sounded weaker than she looked.

The young woman found the question strange.

“Don’t hurt them.”

The light shifted to a golder color. The men screamed moments before their heart rates dropped and they fell. Henry suspected they’d been forced to sleep.

Vicki looked at Henry. He nodded.

“Good.”

The young woman turned and reached toward Vicki. “Mitera.” The gold light extended from the young woman’s hand and enveloped Vicki.

Henry rushed to catch her as she fell. Although barely conscious, her skin tone looked healthier. He lifted her. Coreen held the door as he carried Vicki back inside. He suspected she was going back to the hospital. At least the police department would have a difficult time interrogating her.

The lights came back on as the door shut behind them.

“What happened?” One of the undercover cops asked, approaching cautiously.

“I don’t know.”

She whispered, “Thalia.”

Walking toward the nearest chair, Henry wondered if Vicki just gave birth to one of the muses from Greek mythology. Thalia was associated with comedy and poetry. After everything that happened, it didn’t sound as crazy as it should have. He sat down, holding Vicki on his lap.

**Vicki’s New Apartment**

Taking a shower seemed like a small task. Vicki Nelson felt relieved standing unassisted. She needed to focus on small things. She had no idea how to wrap her mind around what happened. Her injuries were completely gone along with a few small scars she learned to tolerate and the marks on her wrists. She hoped the miraculous healing included her eyes.

The bathroom door opened. She somehow knew it was Henry. Logically, he was the only one that walk in while she was showering. But there was more to it.

“How are you?” He sounded worried.

Vicki didn’t know. “At least being a divine conduit doesn’t leave stretch marks.”

“Gives me a few ideas for my next graphic novel.” Henry tried for humor.

She smiled, shutting off the water. “Better than feeding a character based on Mike to hell hounds?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Somethings didn’t change. “Will you hand me a towel?”

“I could join you.” Henry’s uncharacteristic uncertainty was one more reminder of everything that happened.

Tempting, Vicki thought. But it meant leaving Coreen alone with Thalia. Before Vicki responded, Coreen knocked on the bedroom door.

It opened slightly. “Mike called. He’s on his way.”

Vicki pushed aside the shower curtain. “I need ten minutes.”

The door closed.

Henry handed her a towel. His fingers touched hers and lingered. “Not enough time.” His eyes sparkled.

“Don’t tempt me.”

He laughed, reaching for her face. They kissed until she’d forgotten her argument. Then he stepped back toward the door, smiling. “Foreshadowing not temptation.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Dreamscape**

“The path to Britannia…” The Naiad’s previous words echoed.

The dream felt different as Vicki Nelson found herself standing on Etobicoke Creek Trail near Britannia Road. The flat, uninspiring area reminded her of the description Henry provided. It wasn’t what she would expect for a temple or shrine to a divine being.

Nicholas appeared next to her. “It was gorgeous woodlands once. That power is still here.”

Somehow she knew it was him and not simply part of her dream. “Why are we here?”

“To finish this.”

The angel book vision came to mind. “How?” Vicki refused to sacrifice Thalia.

“You could not harm her if you wanted to.”

“You can read my mind.”

Nicholas laughed. “I am in your head.”

Vicki waited as they walked down the path toward the artesian well. “Why did you come to Toronto?”

“For Thalia.”

“You love her.”

Nicholas stopped as land around them shifted to an old forest and the Trail became a footpath. “I revere her.” There was something in his tone. “She promised me a world where I could walk in sunlight and someone to walk with.”

Vicki wondered what that meant as the trees opened up and a stone altar formed around the well. “Why can’t Thalia save the Naiad from Astaroth?”

“She can.”

“What am I needed for?” Something told Vicki she wouldn’t like the answer.

“A powerful sacrifice.” Nicholas waved his hand and a Tiger’s Eye sphere, similar to the scrying stone, rose from the altar. “Astaroth needed an anchor to enter the mortal realm. Someone with personal strength and conviction. That kind of person would never summon a demon.”

It took a moment to realize what Nicholas meant. “You tricked Astaroth into making himself vulnerable.”

“Resisting power is not in his nature.”

How much of this did you cause? “Why does Thalia need his power?” A breeze rustled the trees as Vicki resisted.

“To return to this realm. She will bring a Renaissance.” The sphere glowed like a small sun. “Why do you question this?” Nicholas sounded confused. “Why would you give evil more consideration than your own life energy?”

The wind increased. “Using dark magic to save Henry made Coreen a target.” Vicki was forced to her knees.

“Thalia will heal your friend as she healed you.”

“What about the rest of the world?”

“Will be better off without Astaroth.”

Vicki closed her eyes as the wind battered her.

“Mitera.” Thalia’s Greek suddenly translated. “You know me, mother. Let me live.”

Tears slid down Vicki’s face. “Promise me no one else will die for you.”

“I promise.”

As quickly as she made the decision, the wind changed. The image of the priest Astaroth possessed appeared in her mind. He looked shocked a moment. Then screamed as his stolen body dropped. A dark, disgusting mass of energy passed through her and was driven by the wind toward the sphere. Tendrils of light reached out and grabbed Astaroth.

The dream shook as the demon fought against the wind. Angry growls and foul words she didn’t need translated to understand vibrated around Vicki. Finally tangled beyond escape, Astaroth was dragged into the artesian well. And everything went still and quiet.

A beam of sunlight burst upward from the well. Then it shifted. Thalia formed as the light disappeared. She stepped down from the well and walked over. Then sat next to Vicki. Thalia looked the same as the woman that was born at the restaurant but her body language was very different.

Vicki looked at the woman that was in a way her child. “Nicholas can’t have Coreen.”

Thalia ran a hand over Vicki’s head as she spoke. Amused, she said, “He wants Colin not Coreen…”

**Vicki’s New Apartment**

**Saturday, December 15, 2007**

Vicki woke and sat up in bed. She felt different. The emptiness after Thalia left her in the restaurant was gone. But it was more than that. She felt stronger.

Coreen stepped out of the bathroom and looked relieved. “Hey.”

“How long did I sleep?” Vicki looked at the curtained window.

“All day.” Coreen crossed the room. “The news has been crazy.”

What did I cause? Vicki wondered. “Why?”

“Olivia Brown and Joshua Thompson were arrested for Sophie Lewis’ murder. The priest…” Coreen looked sick saying it indicating the one previously possessed by Astaroth, “And his entire congregation have been quarantined. Someone blew up Asylum Cemetery.” She sat on the edge of the bed.

“There was nothing there to destroy.”

“Methane built up in the catacombs. Like a sewer explosion.”

Vicki shook her head. “What about the cemetery thefts?”

“All returned to the Necropolis. No one knows how. But they can’t explain how it was stolen.”

Thalia was making things right, Vicki hoped. “Anything from Mike?”

“You can ask him. He’s here.” Coreen quickly explained, “Until Henry’s awake.”

“The department?”

“Someone leaked to the media that the extremists at the restaurant had help from the police. There’s a social media petition calling for an investigation.” She looked unsure of how to say something.

“What?”

Coreen hesitated. “Medical records. Supposedly yours. Were leaked. Reporters are asking if the department created a fraudulent eye diagnosis to force you out.”

As good as it sounded, Vicki knew it came at a price. “Anything strange involving Etobicoke Creek?”


End file.
